


Touched

by HEA_andallthelike



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, The Arena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 12:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12794160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HEA_andallthelike/pseuds/HEA_andallthelike
Summary: Katniss hates being a mentor. Each year it gets worse. This year however, she couldn't have anticipated who she'd have to help survive....Peeta cant get over the new stipulation in the games. He never saw it coming, but he is okay... he'll be okay. He'd rather it be him then an innocent kid... really- he would





	1. Reaping

**Author's Note:**

> Just had this crazy, angst, smutty idea in my head.

_"This year, as a reprieve to families in all districts, and to show the mercy I have to remind you that I am a fair and just president; The tributes will be reaped from all adults aged 18-25."_

 

Well, I think after watching the announcement from my home in the Victors Village, I think I can stomach losing an adult as opposed to a child this year. I don't even try to keep up the pretense that I have hope that I could win. Snow had made sure that every tribute from 12, since I had won, had died in horrendous ways. Punishment, I know, for what I pulled in my own games. 

Five years ago, I was sixteen year old Katniss Everdeen, reaped from 12. I was the first victor since Haymitch, my mentor, who had won his games 25 years prior. What we pulled off together, no one could have anticipated it, which is why we've been suffering ever since.

A knock at my door releases me from the grip of memories that would paralyze even the numbers soul. I walk to open the door quickly, but don't stay to greet the guest. I only ever have one.

"Hey," Haymitch grumbles as he closes the door behind him.

"Hey," I respond. There isn't much love between the two of us, but we recognize how the bond we have is unshakeable. You cant go through what we've gone through and not have gilded an impenetrable link between us. 

"An adult this year...." he trails off. They both feel a sense of relief, but are ashamed to admit it. Whoever this person is, their life wont grieve them nearly as much as the life of another child. Their life, doesnt hold the same amount of weight. 

You would think that each year would get easier. That each year would just dull the senses a little bit more until there wasn't a possibility for any emotional reaction left. I had held firm to that belief, but watching Haymitch changed all of that. He has done this for thirty years now, and each time the damage to him is remarkable. Somehow his spirit builds back up year after year, against his will, just to be crushed again. That's why he drinks, I know. 

"Eighteen to twenty-five though," I point out. "It will be someone from my years at school most likely. Maybe some a year older or younger." I didn't realize this until I spoke it out loud. I takes a measured deep breath and rub circles into my temples. This will be just like my. reaping, except there isn't the possibility of my name being called. I will know the person going into these games, I am sure of it. 

At least there is no chance of it being anyone I love. There is no one left to fill out that category. 

"Ugh," I sigh, suddenly inundated with thoughts of people that I have tried so hard to forget. There is a part of me that knows its selfish to forget these people who died because of me. I should always revere and think of them, but there would be no living that way. No, I think, its better to forget. 

"We have two weeks until the reaping," Haymitch starts. "They'll be replaying the moments of the games the whole time, per usual. Which means hell starts now."

I nod my head in silent agreement. Since my games, the Capitol has done everything they could do to make them the most unlikeble victors ever, its never worked. For some reason Panem has always responded to us favorably. So Snow found new ways to torture us. Aside from bringing their tributes to the worst end possible, they'd constantly replay their specific games, and request interviews that forced them to answer question after question about their horrendous losses. If Snow can't taint their reputations, than he will keep them reliving their worst moments more than any other victors year after year. It's the best way to make them suffer these days. There isn't anyone left for him to kill. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

The bright lights always bothered me. It was as if the more light that shined upon me would illuminate every fault more clearly. It exposes me. I sit patiently, however, as the capitolite make up artist finishes me up and Caesar Flickerman went over his notes. Another games and countless interviews; it has become a regrettable routine. 

"Showtime," says the producer, as Katniss steadies herself. "In 3, 2, 1..."

"Katniss," Caesar starts with his voice taking on feigned empathy, "After all you'd endured, there was still more devastation to come wasn't there?"

I take a moment before I respond. I knows the story I need to tell, I tell it year after year after all. I just wish I could tell the truth instead. That will just be taken out on my tribute though, so I keep the lie alive. 

"Yes," I answers solemnly. The bile starts turning in my stomach. It sickens me to no end to feel complicit in perpetuating this bull shit. "After my games there was an accident."

"Mmm, yes," Caesar responds clearly relishing the dramatic story as he does each and every time. "Involving your sister and mother, correct?"

I bite the inside of my mouth and hope the pain will keep me tethered to the present. He knows very well who was involved in the accident, and why it came to be. "Yes," I answer, voice cold and detached. 

"And what was it that happened?" He continued, and I can see the spark behind his eyes. 

"It was parcel day," I start, trying hard to keep my composure. "Somehow my mother and my sis.." I trail off for a brief second to the delight of the talk show host, "my sister got stuck on the tracks right as the train arrived." I stop. I don't  say anything more. Everyone knows what happened. 

"Poor dear, they were run over were they not?" 

I tense. Normally Caesar doesn't push me this far. Hatred courses through me and threatens to boil over. Its what Snow must want, I think. To give him another reason to torture my future tribute. I wont give him the satisfaction. 

"Yes," I answer icily. 

"Oh Katniss, it is awful, truly. To have endured and survived the games triumphantly, only to have your family quite literally torn apart, and out of your life forever."

Keep breathing Katniss, I think to myself. Keep breathing. It's almost over... almost over. I don't respond, but continue to look forward into Flickerman's eyes. I will not let him ruin me... at least not here in front of the entire damn country. 

"Yes," he continues, clearly seeing that I will go no further. "Such a sad irony in life isn't it? Volunteer for your sister, and then she is gone," he snaps his fingers, "just like that."

I am two seconds away from strangling his throat. 

"Well that's all from district twelve my lovely viewers!" He says animatedly, "Thank you for watching, and Katniss? Good luck this year." He smiles, and I do my best to receive that horse shit well wish gracefully.

"Cut!!!" Yells the director, and everyone starts to disperse. 

"Fuck you Caesar." I deadpan.  I look right into his eyes, clearly showing my absolute disgust at this facade of a man in front of me. On camera I will play my part, but all bets are off when the broadcasts are over. 

"Oh there you are, Girl on Fire," Caesar laughs, "I'd thought you'd seemed a bit muted today."

I grab my coat and march out of the justice building to head home. Girl on Fire, I think. The nickname given to me by Caesar himself during my games. I hate it- hate what it represents, where it came from, and that everyone calls me by it. If they only knew that there really was no fire left; not even a spark.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Reaping Day is here, and myself and Haymitch sit motionless, without expression, on the stage. As usual Effie Trinkett is here in her lavish attire, waiting for the camera to go live for her moment in the spotlight. I've noticed that each year that goes by, Effie seems less eager to pull the names from their respective bowls. It helps me deal with her, by believing that maybe Effie is starting to see the games for what they really are.

The video that plays in the beginning is finished, and Effie returns to the microphone.

"It is time, ladies and gentleman, to meet our tributes from District Twelve. Ladies, as always, first." She hesitates for just a moment as she plunges her long manicured fingers into the clear glass bowl. When she pulls the name, "Eryn Grinwel", I see my old classmate approach the stage. What I did not anticipate, would be that some of these people would have children that they would leave behind, as two young boys cling to their mother as she is led away.

"Mommmy," they cry. "Please, please dont go." The youngest just sits on the ground as his large doe-eyes fill with tears. It's too much to bear. I look to Haymitch and steal the flask he is gulping from, and finishes it off myself. It burns, but not nearly as badly as I wish it did. How will they get through this? 

As Eryn climbs the stairs to the stage, she looks back at her husband and children, for a moment she falters, and I think she might try to run back to them, but she resets her resolve and finishes her walk to Effie. 

"I volunteer!! I volunteer!" A girl shouts from the audience, and the entire district stands there stunned. Katniss' mouth drops open as she sees a younger girl run up to the stage. "I'm 18, I can volunteer!" She shouts again.

"NO!" Eryn cries, "No I'm already here, I was called!" The girl runs up to her and they embrace tightly with tears running down their faces. "Ellyn, please dont do this, it will be okay."

Effie perks up a bit at the drama and looks back at me with astonishment upon her face. I know what she is thinking. They're sisters. This girl has just volunteered to take her older sisters place, and try as I might, I cant stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. Prim. 

"Now now, Eryn, you know once someone volunteers they take the place of official tribute. Back to your place now dear," Effie tries to get Eryn back down the stage, but she is sobbing while holding for dear life onto her baby sister.

"The babies," Ellyn says, "They need you, Eryn they need you. I couldn't let you go."

With that, the guards have forcefully taken Eryn back down to her family, and she looks in horror at her sister, while her children cling to her.

The commotion has settled, we learn the girls name is Ellyn Berger, and Effie walks to the bowl that contains the name of the men. As she does so I think of the children that were spared their mother. I imagine the future birthdays and holidays they will all have together, and my head throbs with the pain of knowing that's what I was trying to save for Prim when she volunteered. She died anyway. 

"The male tribute for District Twelve is, Peeta Mellark!!" Effie states triumphantly. 

I feel nearly faint. My breathing has picked up and Haymitch puts a hand on my thigh to try and steady me. "Shh, Katniss, you gotta pull it together."

I look out, and there he is, walking to the stage. Even from my vantage point I can see the blue of his eyes. His jaw is set and resolved determination is etched on his face. When he walks to Effie his eyes meet mine for just a moment, and when they do his face softens almost imperceptibly, but I notice it. 

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaims, "Our District Twelve tributes are Ellyn Bergere and Peeta Mellark!" 

The Twelvians are emotionally spent, enduring another reaping is never easy, and this one was emotional in all too familiar ways. The sister connection is not lost on anyone there. No one applauds, and no one even seems relieved that their names weren't called. There is just sadness here. 

"Until next year my friends," Effie states. "Be sure to cheer on your tributes, we are off to the Capitol!"

Haymitch and I stand, as the tributes are led back into the Justice building, and again I makes eye contact with Peeta. I wonder if he remembers, if he knows how indebted to him I am. It's improbable, I think, it was so so long ago. Still..... the way he is looking at me..... 

"Well, so much for this year being any easier than the rest," Haymitch laments. "God this fucking sucks," he mumbles as he pulls out a second flask that was hiding in his pants. I again reach out and grab it. 

"Geez girl, that's a good way to lose your fucking hand. Get your own!" 

I ignore him as I take another long swig from the tiny metal containers. I need to lie down, or at least find a way to calm down. This could not have been a coincidence, I think. Snow somehow made this happen. There is no way that this year could have a sister volunteer, and my boy with the bread in the same reaping unless someone made sure it happened that way, right? I moan to myself. Or maybe... I really am just that fucking unlucky. 


	2. Train ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was ever a time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Changed the point of view. I will continue to write as Katniss for the rest of the story, and Ive edited chapter 1 to reflect that. Sorry for any confusion! As always lemme know whatcha think! I need some feedback y'all

"They're still saying their goodbyes," Haymitch states, as I keep watch out the train window for our tributes. I nod and sit down on one of the plush, velvet seats. The accommodations on the train are extravagant, but I haven't felt any joy from them. Even when I was a tribute myself, I couldn't help but be revolted by the sheer excess of it all. I would rather be in my old house in The Seam, dilapidated as it was. 

"So," Haymitch starts, "what's our game plan here? Who do we fight for this time?" 

"Peeta," I respond with not a moment of hesitation. There is no question in my mind.

"The boy?" Haymitch seems surprised. "Katniss you know everyone is going to expect we go for the sister. Her story alone will guarantee sponsors. We may actually have a chance with her, since you're her mentor and all."

"No," I reply almost coldly. "There is no way Snow lets my story replay itself. No way. We go for Peeta."

Haymitch regards me closely. "You sure had a reaction when his name was called," he says cautiously. "Who is he?"

"I dont know him," I lie. 

"Don't bull shit me. And dont ask me to give up on the girl with sure fire sponsors without knowing why you really wanna go with the boy."

Oye, I take a deep breath. It's a fair request, and I loathe him for it. The thing is, I'm not sure my story will convince him.

"He helped me. Saved me, actually. After my dad died, we were starving. He gave us food."

The memory of it started to play in my mind. He took a beating for it, I was sure of it. We never spoke, but I remember those blue eyes staring at me when he threw the bread to me, and the small nod of his head that assured me it was freely given. I grabbed it and ran, as if he might change his mind at any moment. When I looked back, he was watching me, and he watched ever since. For years, I always saw him looking, his eyes always intense, my heart always racing. I never thanked him- ever. When I volunteered for Prim I saw him in the crowd, and I swore he was crying. When I boarded the train as a tribute it was Peeta I saw when we pulled away from the station. When I returned, he was standing in the same spot, watching me reunite with my family. The last time I saw him was when he dropped off a weeks worth of food after my family died. I hadn't opened the door until he left, and then watched him walk down the street, his hands in pockets and head down. Still, after all this time, there were never words spoken between us. The memories solidified my resolve. 

"Peeta, that's who we fight for," I say firmly. "And Haymitch," I say, as he looks up at me, "We bring him home.... alive."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 Haymitch and I waited until Effie has the tributes situated to be introduced to them. When we walk in we can see how different everything is. Instead of two scared children in front of us, there were two adults who had wisdom behind their eyes. Even Ellyn, still so young at 18, seemed scarily determined and wise beyond her years. I tried not too look at her too much. I do this every year when they had decided which tribute to fight for; I try to avoid the other at all costs. I know it is cruel, but there was only so much that could be asked of me. 

"Ellyn, Peeta, I'm sure you know Katniss and Haymitch. It's their duty to help prepare you as best they can for your games. They will work tirelessly to procure you sponsors, so there is a possibility of aid whilst in the arena," Effie states. "They really do a good job," Effie tries to convince them. Everyone, however, has seen how the tributes from 12 have done these past 5 years, and neither Peeta or Ellyn look convinced. 

A few moments pass, as they do every year, that are uncomfortable because the tributes dont know exactly what questions to ask. Haymitch normally eases them into the process, but this year the girl beats him to the punch.

"I cant die, I'm sorry Peeta," she says as she looks at him sadly. "I hate that I'm saying this, but I won't let myself not come home to them. Eryn... I know her so well. She wont survive it if I dont come home, so I'm sorry but for my nephews, it has to be me that survives," she says. "I dont care what it takes."

I'm stunned, and look at her wide eyed. Never have I heard a more staunchly intense will to survive. Haymitch turns his gaze to her, and I know what he is thinking. Ellyn is a fighter, he doesnt want to give up on her. I understand. It's so rare to have that confidence in a tribute. Typically only the careers have that determination. Even they, though, only really care about the pride their districts will feel towards them when they win. Ellyn has no time for that, I can see. This is purely about the love she has for her family. Love, is the most powerful motivator. Who could know that more than I? This is going to be much MUCH harder than I thought....

"Well, Ellyn," starts Haymitch. "I'm sure you know nothing is as easy as simply stating the outcome you want. If you dont get sponsors, you die." Haymitch looks at her to evaluate her response, and cant hide the glee he feels when her steely resolve doesn't falter. 

"I can get sponsors," she says matter of factly. "Anything, truly anything you tell me to do that can get sponsors, Ill do it."

Haymitch cant help the smile that creeps onto his face, and I start to panic. If Haymitch doesnt help me, Ill lose Peeta.

"Ellyn," I start. "I understand. You'll do whatever it takes... yadda yadda." She looks at me questioningly. "You have no idea what you're talking about though," I continue undeterred. "You're story, I'm sure you've realized, is very similar to mine. What you may not have realized, is that it doesnt bode well for you."

"It doesn't bode well for anyone," she interrupts, and I cant help but show my surprise. "You dont think we've noticed how the tributes from 12 have fared in the years since you won?"

"Watch it.." I say and in my voice I have placed every ounce of disdain I can muster. She has no idea. How dare she..

"Look," she says, and her tone has softened quite a bit as she puts her hands up in surrender. "All I'm trying to do is be honest with my intentions. I dont intend to die. I believe I can win."

"That's fine by me," I hear from her fellow tribute and my heart sinks. 

"Peeta," I say. He is startled. It is the first word Ive ever spoken directly to him, and I said his name in a way that seems familiar; as if I've said his name a million times. He regards me curiously. 

"She has a family to get home too," he says as a small, sad smile graces his face. "I can help... I can help her get home."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

I left the train compartment soon after that. I couldn't stand to listen anymore. I cant fight for someone who is resigned to dying for someone else. Ive gone from being indifferent to Ellyn, to absolutely despising her. I dont care that she is only 18. She is asking Peeta to die for her. She is on my shit list... a bad place for a tribute to be. 

About an hour later and there is a knock on my door. I go to open it and muster up all of the anger I feel that Haymitch is letting this happen. Surprise doesnt quite convey the shock I feel when its Peeta's face that I see. 

He just stands there, hands in his pockets like I remember him doing a few years ago, looking like he has so much to say but is too afraid to say it. Conversely I'm fairly sure I look ridiculous. All I can do is stare. After all this time, after what's just happened, what do you say?

"Uh.. hey," Peeta mumbles, and my eyes fill with tears to hear his voice directed at me. I desperately need to compose myself.

"Hey," I say, but my voice is raspy, too caught up in the emotion of the day.

"Um, I dont... I really dont know what to say. I'm sorry.." he says gently.

He is sorry? What could he possibly be sorry for? Though Ive only ever watched from a distance, Ive never seen Peeta do anything that he needed to apologize for. He can clearly see the confusion on my face.

"It.... seemed like you didn't like that I kind of volunteered to help her."

Very astute Peeta, dont say her name or I may lose it. I can't believe that he is apologizing to me for this. He is laying down his life, and he is apologizing to me. Confusion washes over me. People aren't like this; people dont do this. Who is Peeta Mellark, and why does he seem more than human? 

"Don't apologize," I say. "I was surprised to hear you offer yourself up like that." 

"She's 18," he whispers.

"You're 21." I reply. 

"She has a family. Nobody needs me."

I didn't think there was anything left to break, but apparently a few shards of my heart were still intact, because I can physically feel them shatter at his words. How could that be possible? That no one needs him? He cant truly believe that...

"I needed you once," I whisper gently. "I'm sure someone needs you now..."

Peeta's mouth falls open at that. He didn't realize that I remembered. Of course I did. I will never forget. I was willing to sacrifice another persons life because of it. 

His eyes regard me softly, and I feel so vulnerable in his gaze. Normally I never let myself remain in a vulnerable state, but I cant seem to look away. There is something about his eyes... I just can't look away. 

"No one has needed me in a long time, and.... she has people who need her now," he says softly. 

I shake my head, and gear myself up to argue with him when he continues..

"I should have come up to you... handed you that bread instead of just throwing it at you. I'm sorry I didn't."

It's my turn to be shocked. Minutes pass and I still cant find the words to respond. Peeta looks at me sadly, clearly hoping that I would have something to say to him in return, but I'm paralyzed in this moment for reasons I cant for the life of me fucking understand. 

"Well, Ive wanted to apologize for that for a long time. Now I have," he smiles. "Ill see you in the morning Katniss." He slowly turns and walks away.

Im left to close the door and collapse on my bed, where I spend the next few hours trying to understand why Peeta Mellark has me crying the way I am. 

 


	3. Let's not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving lovelies!!
> 
> I'm eternally grateful to the amazing people who have taken time out of their lives to read my stories. I'm so humbled and amazed by it. I hope you like this chapter!

I've tried, I really have, but I cant sleep. Ive tossed and turned for hours to no avail. I get up and throw my pillow across the room.... it didn't help assuage the building rage I now feel. I throw myself back down onto the bed and shove the other pillow over my face. Maybe I can just suffocate myself....

Half an hour later and I realize sleep is a lost cause. I get up, dressed, and walk to the bar car. I sit next to the window and watch as the landscape of all of Panem passes by. This car is nearly all made of glass, so I tend to go here on the nights that sleep escapes me. I can see forests in the distance. The dark of night has been illuminated by the most dazzling array of stars. The train keeps its lights low in the evening, so the stars have not been muted. 

"Can I bring you something miss?" The servant who passes by asks.

"Yes, thank you, tea with honey?"

"Certainly," he responds, and he heads to the kitchen. 

Ten minutes later I clutch the hot mug in both hands and deeply inhale the soothing aroma and the steam. As I breathe it in, I try to sort through the constant barrage of thoughts bouncing around in my brain. This, unfortunately, isn't new for me. AFter my games, I was never the same. Before the games, I was self assured about what my role in life was. I knew what I needed to do, and when I needed to do it, in order to keep my family alive. It was simple then, I only had two people to look out for. Food equated to life. That was all that mattered. If Prim was fed, Prim could go to school, be healthy, have a life. Nothing is simple now. I'm wracked with fear and anxiety that any move I make, as inconsequential as it may seem, will end with someone dead. I've dulled my senses as much as I could throughout these past several years without resorting to the drink or morphling, but tonight there is no diminishing the confusion I feel. 

I'm not sure how to feel about how I am so willing to sacrifice Ellyn's life. She is young, and has a family who clearly love her. Yet I am ready to throw her to the wolves in order to save Peeta- and worse I feel no guilt for it. Each year, its the same dance. We pick one to try to save, and let the other tend to themselves. Ive been able to rationalize that in my head each year. When you're a mentor from 12, getting any sponsors at all is nearly impossible, so you have to throw all of your weight behind one. It's what Haymitch did for me. It's what we have both done together for five years now. This time though, Haymitch wants to throw his support to someone I will adamantly deny help to. I just  _can't do it._ I can' throw Peeta to the wolves, when in essence he saved me from them so many years ago. Doesn't someone like that deserve to survive?

It is probably the reason Ive cried so much tonight, the reason that I'm so invested in Peeta surviving. It's not just that he saved me so long ago, but what he represents to me. That there is something good left in the world... that  _people can still choose to be good-_ and Peeta is that beacon of hope for me. If I let that go- if I let him go- I'm not sure what Ill have left to hold on to.... this is insane. I didn't know a stranger, for all intents and purposes, had this effect on me. 

There is something else though. I dont have the words to describe it, because there is no experience that I can compare it to. There is something about the way I feel when I look into his eyes... Peeta's eyes. It's so frustrating to not know something about myself, but here I am. I take another long drink of my tea and look back out the window in time to see the moon reveal itself from behind the one cloud in an otherwise clear sky. It's a red moon. A bad omen to the people of 12. I can't help but feel that it waited to show itself until I could see it; so I could know that this awful and persistent dread I feel is warranted. Inevitable. It's terrifying. 

I stare up at the moon as a few more tears escape and cascade down my tired face. Funny, I muse, I didn't think I had any more tears to cry. My eyes get heavy, and soon I drift off into the tortured sleep I always knew would eventually come. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"Katniss... Katniss wake up girl," I hear Haymitch say as I slowly wake to the light of the early morning sun. "Did you stay out here all night?" He asks.

"Most of it," I reply, slowly rubbing the tired out of my eyes. "Couldn't sleep," I yawn. "Mostly because you fucked me over last night." Boom. I take no prisoners. 

"Oh good! I was hoping to get chewed out by someone today, happy it could be at the break of dawn," he sarcastically chimes, with a look on his face I wish I could slap off. "Katniss on a good day is a royal pain in the ass. Katniss with no sleep and not getting what she wants? Watch out."

"Fuck you," I bark at him. "Don't you even frickin dare try to make it seem like this situation has anything to do with some whiny brat who didn't get her way. I've never been that person," I'm fuming. "I told you Haymitch. I told you why I picked him, and you went against me."

Haymitch pours himself his early morning drink, and I motion for him to pour me one as well.

"Well this is new," he mocks, when he hands me the much too strong drink. After I take a long swig and then another, I notice Haymitch regard me a little differently. I've drunk more in these past two days then I have in the past year.

"Okay Katniss, c'mon," he starts at me. "You know- I know you know- that Ellyn is the better tribute. She is young, beautiful, apparently scrappy as hell. AND her fellow tribute is willing to help her win. We've never been dealt a better hand!" 

"Stop... please, just stop," I say, and the utter exhaustion I feel is strikingly present in my voice. "Haymitch," I plead. "Please... I dont know if I'll ever be able to explain this, but I cant! I can't watch him die." The mere thought of seeing Peeta lying in the arena injured and dying has me on edge. 

"Hey, hey," Haymitch whispers as he sits beside me. "Katniss I'm sorry, but he is voluntarily throwing in the towel. Even if I decided to agree with you, how can we save someone who wants to die for someone else?" 

"Fine," I snap back, shaking myself from his arm that he laid around my shoulders. "You three can go ahead with this absolute bull shit idea, but I'm pulling for him. I'm sorry but I won't work against him."

"Ughhhh, Katniss, damnit! So Instead you'd watch them both die? You know sponsors respond better to you than me! You're being fucking insane right now. Why!"

I get up and head back to my compartment, when I get to the door I turn back to him, "He would do the same for me, I'm sure of it." Somehow, though I dont know really know Peeta, I'm certain my words are true. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A few hours later and I go to the dining car to await our first planning meeting with the tributes. This is typically when we get to know about their history and find any little tid bit about them that might be useful to them in the games. I'm the first to arrive so I grab some toast and wait for the others. 

"Good morning," says Ellyn as she enters the car. 

Damnit, I was hoping she wouldn't be the first one here.

"Morning," I say unenthusiastically while keeping my head turned away from her. She has no idea the enemy she has made in me.

To further my annoyance she sits down right next to me.

"You dont like me," she states.

"I dont like anyone," I reply, still refusing to meet her gaze.

"You don't know me," she remarks pointedly. 

"Well I know according to yourself you think your life is worth more than your tribute partners life. So I think that's all I need to know about you." 

She has the decency to drop her head at that. I dont regret my harsh tone with her at all. When I went into my games I was also going to try to win. I promised Prim I would. But I DID NOT ask Haymitch to choose me, he did that on his own. And I sure as hell did not ask Konrad, my fellow tribute, to lay down his life for me. When he died, a part of me died too. It was an unwritten rule that district tributes stuck together unless they were the last two standing, and even then it was universally frowned upon for one to kill the other. They typically just waited it out until some mutt or the elements finished one of them off. Not Ellyn though. She looked Peeta straight in the eye and told him she intended for him to die. Bitch. 

"Katniss, I just... I want to go home," she says and her voice breaks. "I know it seems awful, but after what my family has already been through, I just need to win. I need to win for them."

"You're not the only person who has been in these games and ALSO had been dealt a bad hand in life. Did you ever have to take out tesserae?"

She nods her head no. 

"Well that probably helped you and your sister not get reaped during your eligible years. The only reason you're here is because of some freak plot twist. Don't pity yourself. Ive watched children who were starving take out more tesserae than you could imagine, and then watch them die in the games because they were forced to feed their family at the age of 12. Ask Haymitch... his stories are much worse." I stop and try to reign in my temper. As angry as I am, I dont want to berate this girl, but she is making it difficult.

"You're right. I haven't known hunger," she breathes out. "At least not like most people in 12 have. But I have known loss... and pain. Maybe not the same way you have... but I know it because I have felt it. There are more ways to suffer than being hungry...." her voice trails off. 

At that I look at her for the first time since she declared her intentions yesterday. There was an honesty in her voice that Ive learned to pick up on. Ive heard so much bull shit, that honesty tends to stand out like Effies fucked up hair when she walks around 12. I run my fingers through my hair and then clasp my hands behind my neck. I dont want to take it easy on her, but I find myself softening. I dont know how she has suffered, but it's clear she has. It's hard to judge another's pain... I know.

"I'm not trying to say you deserve to be here over anyone else, because no one deserves to be here," I say. "And I'm not saying you shouldn't fight for your life, of course you should. It's your fucking life, I get that more than most. I didn't like you thinking his life wasn't worth what yours is. Because that's bullshit." I stop as I see tears roll down her face. I sigh and try to calm myself down. She really is still a kid, and I dont want her going into the games feeling like I hate her. Especially when I'm one of only 2 people who can actually help her.

"Ellyn, I'm not going to work against you," I say quietly, "But I can't go along with sacrificing Peeta. I won't." I hope she can accept the honesty. 

"Fair enough," she whispers. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Twenty minutes later and all five of us are in the Dining car finishing up what's left of the most colorful assortment of food you've ever seen. They have really outdone themselves this year. Pastries with every fruit topping imagineable, huge mugs of the richest hot chocolate one could ever taste, sizzling sausages, omelettes with every gooey and savory filling you could ask for, and flat cakes topped to the heavens with blueberries and cream. I can't help but smile when I see Peeta and Ellyn's eyes widen as the displays are set up before them. They've never seen food like this in their lives. My smile falters when I remember how I was able to truly eat for the first time on the way to my games. It all makes me sick now... so I stick to my coffee. 

The two tributes lie back in their chairs with full bellies, and satisfied smiles on their faces. I wish I could leave them with a few moments to relish this experience, but we really have wasted too much time already.

"Okay, so uh part of what Haymitch and I do is try to make people care about you, or believe in your ability to win. We wish we could get a sponsor who does both, but that's rare," I say resignedly.

"We haven't had that happen since Katniss' games. Only one other tribute other than her, that I have ever had, garnered that attention. But Katniss is my only Victor," Haymitch chimes in. It's a bleak picture he is painting, but it's real, it's honest. The worst thing we could do for them is not be truthful about what they're up against. 

"This is where you tell us everything about yourself that you think could help you in the games," I say, my voice serious. "Anything you can think of. A skill you may have. It doesn't even have to be a survival skill.... something that could endear yourself to sponsors?"  

"Like your singing?"

His voice was barely above the level of a whisper, but I'm certain everyone heard him, because all of us turn our attention to Peeta. He is smiling softly towards me, and he may even be blushing. I shift slightly uncomfortably as I'm reminded of my games once more. If I had looked to my right, I would have noticed Haymitch looking back and forth between us with concern on his scarred face. 

"Yes," Haymitch grunts loudly, purposely being abrasive. "That was one of the reasons Katniss got as many parachutes as she did. When she sang to Rue, well, people just melted at that. They related to her. Even District 12 was able to send her a parachute, and that had never before happened in games history."

I shift my eyes to the ground. I don't like thinking of Rue. I don't like remembering my games at all. 

"12 sent a chute?" Asks Ellyn. 

"Oh yes dear, dont you remember! We did a big segment on it!" Effie chimes in as if it was a great television moment and nothing more.

"Yea, it wasn't much. It was one loaf of bread, and a cheese bun. It was all we could get. We would have sent more, but it wasn't the food that cost too much, it was the chute itself plus you had to pay a sponsor...fee," Peeta replies with his voice dropping as he says 'fee.' He sees me and Haymitch staring at him mouths opened in shock. 

I remembered that specific parachute very well. It was right after Rue died. I had found a cave and stayed inside for nearly two days by myself, unwilling to even try to keep fighting. I heard the chimes as it slowly landed at the opening of the cave. When I opened it, and I saw that it was from home, it breathed new life into me. Not only did it help me want to survive again, it reminded me of who I was trying to get back to, and what I really thought of the people who made it possible for me to be put in the arena in the first place. It changed everything. If I'm hearing this right, Peeta had something to do with it..

An awkward amount of silence has gone by, so Peeta tries to cover his tracks. "There was a whole group of people that wanted to send you something, so everyone just banded together and combined what they had to offer. It... it really wasn't a lot."

"Right..." Haymitch replies softly, because I dont have any clue how to respond to that. "Right," he sounds more authoritative now. "So you can see how any little thing can potentially help you in the arena. So? Get talking guys, whaddya got for us?"

 

 

An hour later and there is actually a lot to go on. Peeta was a wrestler in high school, which I knew, and was ridiculously strong. He had been in charge of most things at the bakery which involved lots of heavy lifting. He was also an artist, which I did not know, but Ellyn apparently did. 

"Oh Peeta, that's right!" She exclaims. "You did the mural in my nephews nursery right?"

"Ha, yea I did," Peeta smiles warmly as he responds. "Eryn had asked me to do that after she found out I painted the mural on the back of the library."

"You did that?" I ask, stunned once again. Prim had loved that mural. She sat against it nearly every summer reading one of only a handful of books the library actually had. 

"Yea," he says, actually looking somewhat embarrassed at it. "I was only 15 at the time, so dont judge it too harshly."

"15!?" Even Haymitch seems impressed. 

"Yup," Peeta replies again, "I still had a lot to learn."

"It's beautiful Peeta, Prim loved it." I say surprisingly. I almost never talk about Prim anymore.

Peeta looks up at me and there is a genuine satisfaction behind his eyes, "I'm glad she liked it."

I feel something warm settle in my chest, and quickly move onto the next topic. "Ellyn, you were a runner, right? Any other physical skill you can think of?" 

We all go back and forth for another hour or two talking about the ways they will be physically challenged in the arena. We agree Ellyn needs to gain weight and work on her strength, and that Peeta needs to work on flexibility and quickness. He absolutely has the strength part down. Neither of them have any hunting skills, so its decided that I will work with both of them on wild life skills and interview techniques, while Haymitch will work with them on strategy and strength training. 

The past two arenas were awful. An abandoned city that looked like a bomb had gone off in it an hour before the tributes got there, and a desert-like landscape the year before. If they stay true to form, I'd expect something like a forest, or tropics this year. That's what we hope anyway. 

We agree that everyone needs a break before we talk about combat, so we go our separate ways. I immediately return to my compartment to try to sleep, but too much has happened to let my mind rest. Peeta didn't just save me once.. he saved me twice. He sent me that parachute. I know others were involved, but so was he. I roll onto my back and sigh. How am I going to watch him in these games?

<><><><><><><><<><><>

I head back to the bar car when sleep evades me, yet again, to see if there is any more coffee. I see Peeta sitting in the exact place I was the night before. For a moment I think I'll turn and leave, but I see him working on something and my curiosity is piqued. 

"What are you doing," I ask as I sit across from him.

He looks up a bit startled, he really didn't hear me come in, but he quickly relaxes and smiles. He has a really perfect smile.

"Hey." He says. "Well Haymitch had said he could get letters back to 12, so I'm writing to my family and friends."

"It looks like you're drawing," I point out. The paper in front of him is shaded in deep greens, soft yellows, and pale purples. "Where did you even get supplies?"

"Ah, yea," he starts a little sheepishly. "Believe it or not, Effie got them for me. That one stop we had to make? She ran into the town and got them. I have no idea why."

I do. Peeta doesn't seem to know the effect he has on people.

"So what is it?"

"The meadow.... in 12. My older brother is having a baby in about 6 months, I thought I could get him this to put up in the babies room."

"You're not planning on being there to give it to him yourself?" The question tumbles from my lips before I have a chance to think better of it. To Peeta's credit he just shows off a small side smile and shrugs his shoulders.

"Meh," he says flippantly. "Who knows. Crazier things have happened right?" He tries to joke, but I can feel the strain in his voice. 

I could kick myself. "I wish I could draw," I say. Trying to turn the conversation back to light. "I cant draw for shit."

I crinkle my nose in confusion when Peeta actually starts laughing at that; a full bodied genuine laugh that shows off the radiance of his smile. I normally loathe being laughed at, but I smile while watching him in his state of amusement because I dont think Ive ever seen him laugh, and I'm enjoying it.

"Uhh," he moans. "Oh my god I know," he continues giggling.

"What!?" That catches me off guard. "What do you mean 'you know'," I ask, genuinely curious as to how he could possibly know that.

"What, you dont remember?" He asks incredulously, while still trying to contain himself from falling into another fit of laughter. 

"Well obviously not," I say. Damnit, I chastise myself. My voice sounds annoyed, because it always sounds annoyed, so I try to smile as I finish with, "care to elaborate?"

"Sure," he smiles, "It was 8th grade history class, and we were supposed to sketch a still life. You really dont remember this?" He asks, as though the memory is so special to him he couldn't imagine forgetting it. 

I shake my head at him, and motion for him to continue. 

"Well everyone had to get up and show their artwork and discuss what was the hardest part for them. When you got up there," a huge smile splays across his face, and i cant help but match it, "You held up your sketch and it was a stick figure of Channing, the town drunk, remember? And you said, 'Well he is always still... yet somehow alive, so I drew him.'" He stops and starts laughing again.

I groan and feel the blush rise in my cheeks. I had totally forgotten that! I never paid attention in art so I didn't get the concept of still life. So on the way to school when I saw Channing sleeping on the justice buildings steps, I just drew him really fast because the assignment was due that morning. 

"Ughhh, how do you remember that!" I ask, though I am smiling at the thought of it. It wasn't an easy time. Still wretched. But it was simpler. 

"Yea," he says gently and I can see the blush in his cheeks now too. "I remember a lot about you Katniss. You stood out in the crowd."

"Nooo.. I faded out of the crowd," I correct him.

"Well," he starts and his eyes lock on mine. "That's not how I remember it."

Again, AGAIN, I feel this warmth spread through my body and I can feel my heart rate pick up. Peeta wont look away, so I do, shifting my eyes around the room uncomfortably. 

I suddenly feel there must be thousands of pounds resting on top of my shoulders. I look back up at him, and even though he is smiling, I feel no happiness; just sadness. "Why do you want to go along with this Peeta? Really, I just cant understand. You're someone who really could win, who really SHOULD win. I wont go along with it." I say stubbornly, as i hug my knees to my chest like a petulant child. I dont even care I look that way, I just need to understand.

"Oye," he starts, and leans forward in his chair. He looks up at me curiously, as though he isn't sure he should really answer that question.

"Please," I whisper, and his eyes soften. 

"I always told myself, when I was younger, that if I got reaped I wouldn't let them change me," he says softly. "I wouldn't be a piece in their sick fucked up games," he says with conviction, and it's the only anger Ive ever seen come out of Peeta. "If I go into that arena, and I become someone I'm not? Kill innocent people? Ive lost more than my life. I can't let them do that. So when Ellyn said how badly she wanted to win, I thought if I helped her survive, tried to keep someone alive? Then at least I'd still be me."

I look at him, my brow creased, deep in thought. It sounds poetic, what he is saying. Not in any way practical, but..... beautiful. "You won't kill anyone?" I ask. 

"I'd defend myself," he says, "I would defend myself from being killed. But I would avoid killing in every possible way. Doesn't make me much of a contender does it?" He almost laughs when he says it, but its laced with sadness in the realization that to keep true to himself, he will almost certainly die. 

"No, it doesn't" I say, and I try to keep my composure because I feel that sadness too. I feel so immensely sad that this man is in this position. He is too good.... much, much too good for this. 

"What if you could win while still being yourself," I ask. "Would you try? I mean it!" I say when he shoots me an incredulous look. "Would you try to win, if you thought you could still be yourself?"

"Katniss," he says, "of course I would, but..."

"NO!" I interrupt him. "No buts. I need to know that you'll at least try.... please," I plead with him. "Promise me you will at least try."

He looks me up and down as though he is trying to take a mental photograph of me in this moment; like he cant believe I'm here begging him to fight for his life. He sighs and smiles gently...

"I promise."


	4. Haves and Have Nots

He promised. I'd hold him to it. 

After Peeta and I had talked, everyone congregated back in the dining car for lunch. As everyone enjoyed their meals and I sipped my coffee, I realize that back in the bar car was the first real conversation I had ever had with Peeta Mellark. His voice is so soothing, having both a gentle and strong sound to it. I could listen to him speak about nearly anything. He has a loud boisterous laugh that doesn't cross the line into obnoxious. His eyes are so fixed on the person that is speaking to him, it makes you feel like you could tell him your darkest secrets and he wouldn't judge you. When he sets his jaw in a firm line and narrows his eyes you feel..... oh my god I don't even have a word for it. You just feel.... captivated. Even now when I glance at him across the table, it's like he has a sixth sense and he looks up directly at me and smiles. I feel myself blushing and I look away absolutely horrified with myself. Where the fuck are we!! I need to remind myself that this isn't some leisure trip for some stupid girl to develop a crush on a boy that's wayyyy too good for her. Holy shit, what am I trying to do here!

Eventually the conversation turns back to the games, and I try to get my priorities straight. We talk about every detail to near exhaustive levels. Both Ellyn and Peeta ask really intelligent questions, and again we are reminded that these are not children. This is an adults game now. Surprisingly, we don't have any information on the tributes from the other districts yet. We typically go over at least the names and ages on the train before we learn more about them at Tribute Towers. Peeta and Ellyn retire for the evening, but not before Peeta smiles at me again, and I nearly lose feeling in my fingers from it. We are supposed to arrive at the Capitol stupidly early, so now its just Haymitch, Effie, and I. 

"I'm not entirely certain," Effie says with her exaggerated pronounciation. "But I think these games will have more than the twist of our older tributes," she finishes. Haymitch and I regard her with sudden interest. There have been a few times in the last few years where Effie's hunches have been spot on. We'd be fools to ignore them now.

"Why?" I ask simply. It doesn't take much to keep Effie talking.

"The game maker... They just announced him to the escorts..." she trails off. Haymitch looks at me and I see the same worry that must show on my face. Effie looks uncomfortable. That alone causes one thousand red flags to shoot up. She can talk about the games as though she was talking about flossing her teeth. NOTHING really ever seems to get to her.... so why is she so uncomfortable now?

"Effie?" Haymitch says softy. "Who is the game maker this year?"

She looks up at both of us wide eyed and pale, "Marchant.... It's Draykon Marchant."

I have no idea who that is, but Haymitch is now cursing to himself, and Effie takes a few steadying breaths. It's enough of a reaction from both of them that I'm genuinely concerned. 

"Who is that?" I ask, but they don't seem to hear me, both locked in their own worlds. "WHO IS THAT?!" I shout nearly as loud as I can. I'm not patient, even less so when I'm anxious. 

Haymitch is the first to shake himself out of whatever trance he is in at the moment. "Son of a bitch," he says under his breath. "Effie are you sure?"

Effie only nods. I look towards the area she seems fixated on, but there is nothing there. Whatever she is staring at, it is playing behind her eyes and not in front of them. 

"Son of a friggin bitch," Haymitch says again, and then he looks to me. I hold my hands out in the air to show how pissed I am that I still dont know who this person is. "Katniss," he says ridiculously slowly. "This guy... fuck," he stops.

"God Damnit Haymitch spit it out! I swear to God, you're being more dramatic than Effie."

"No Katniss, no.. you dont understand," Effie barely whispers, and I cant help the tears of both frustration and fear in my eyes. Why is everyone so scared of this man? "He was removed from his post for doing things that no one could stomach seeing. Things that almost shut down the games," she says. "Katniss I had thought.. if he is here..." she trails off and her eyes go distant as she goes back into her own mind with memories that seem to paralyze her. 

"If he is here," Haymitch picks up where she left off, "then these games will be so brutal, that whoever survives this will live with nightmares you and I could never imagine." 

I look at him, and swallow hard. I can only nod in silent recognition of the reality he has painted before me. Fuck..... 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

I wake up to the smell of coffee, but I didn't get it, so I look around my room and sure enough Haymitch is sitting in the chair at the edge of my bed.

"Good morning Haymitch," I saw sarcastically. "Already delivering your special dose of creepy today?"

He actually chuckles under his breath a bit. I sit up and grab the robe on the table next to me. I shuffle my feet over to where he is, and he hands me the steaming cup as I sit in the chair next to his. It burns as I drink it down, but if I dont get a kick start now I may not last the day. The tribute parade is tonight. 

"Listen Sweetheart," he starts. "We really need to be careful here."

I Narrow my eyes and shake my head at him to show I dont follow his train of thought. We've always taken our job seriously, done what we can for the tributes we're given. We couldn't live with ourselves otherwise. He sighs as he sees the lack of awareness I have.

"Really, Katniss. This guy really is one of the most sadistic men Ive ever known. He is game maker for a reason," he continues, and I dont interrupt him. There isn't a hint of sarcasm to his voice and he stone cold sober. he needs me to hear this. "Each year since you've been a mentor our tributes have had grisly, awful deaths," he says and I drop my eyes. It's true, and I've blamed myself for all of them. When we return home and I have to see their families, I descend into such a dark place I dont emerge from my home for almost a month. 

"If we have any hope of at least getting our tributes a semi-humane death, we need to go so far beyond anything we have ever done," he adds.

"Whaddya mean?" I ask.

"Maybe this year we actually go to the functions. Engage with the people, give the interviews they've asked of us so many times. I know most mentors don't do that, but this year we should. Maybe we do more than what Snow even expects us to do." He finishes.

"Got it," I reply way too quickly. Haymitch looks at me with his eyebrows raised. I know Ive never agreed with anything he has said that fast before, but this time is different. If Peeta promised to try to win, I need to do anything and everything I can. Even sell my soul to the devil. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

Peeta and Ellyn can barely stay focused as their attention is constantly shifting from one extravagance to another as we ride through the Capitol to Tribute Towers. Eventually, Haymitch and I stop trying to engage them in conversation and just let them try to take it all in. It is overwhelming. There are tall building everywhere, people that all look like they were dressed by Effie personally, huge bouquets of flowers at every street corner, golden sculptures, and water fountains that are near ten stories high. I was just as enthralled during my games, and I hate the Capitol more than anyone. 

Eventually we arrive at our building, and as we walk in I scan the crowd. It's much more difficult to pick the tributes out this year. Typically they are the only children in the lobby, but this year, anyone and everyone could be this years sacrificial offerings. Haymitch gets the keys to our lodging, and up the elevator we go to the penthouse. As we walk in, the smells of a true Capitol breakfast assault our senses and we quickly meet at the table. They, it seems, are chomping at the bit to get at that food. 

Peeta is enjoying his flat cakes with cherries this time and a tall glass of orange juice, while Ellyn is enjoying cinnamon loaf with heaps of maple syrup. I watch them enjoy their breakfast as I sip on more coffee.

"Katniss, please, can I get you something to eat?" Peeta asks. I smile at him. He is always looking out for everyone else.

"I'm okay," I say softly, and offer him a gentle smile. It may be the most polite Ive ever been to anyone.

"You've only had coffee since we got on the train!" He exclaims. I want to tell him that I had toast too, but he is already up and making me a plate with all different kids of fruits and a large muffin of some variety. 

When he puts it in front of me I crinkle my nose at it, "Really Peeta I'm okay!"

"Please," he says. "Truly if you need us to be strong, than I need you to be strong too," he ends and he looks me square in the eye with his jaw set. My lips part and my eyes soften as I understand his meaning; what he is really telling me in this moment. He really will stick to his promise, but he wants me to be at my best too. I bring the plate closer to me, and grab the way too big muffin to start eating. I look down as I take my first bite, but I know he understands what I am saying- I will do everything I can.

"Haymitch, I hope that goes for you too, no drinking right?" Ellyn asks.

"Well that depends," he replies. "do you want me to be coherent and working to help you in the arena or do you want me a heaping pile of shit who is dry heaving every ten minutes?"

"Uhhh," Ellyn stammers trying to figure out what kind of question that was. I cant help but laugh. 

"Option A?" She answers him. 

"Perfect. That's what I want to, so drinking it is." Haymitch deadpans as he walks to his room. Both Peeta and Ellyn look at me with both stunned and somewhat grossed out expressions on their faces. 

"He does everything he can. He never gets drunk during the games, just enough to take an edge off to do the hard things he needs to do. You can trust him." They really can. "Listen," I continue, "You've got about ten minutes until you're taken down by your team of stylists. We already talked on the train about how differently the sponsors will view you guys this year. You'll be made to look imposing, scary almost. The trick is to look both those things, AND make people like you. We will meet you before the parade to go over how it works and The specifics on how we think you should play it. Whether or not you take our advice is up to you, but I hope you will." I look straight at Peeta at that last part, and I see his small nod of assurance. Good...

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

The tributes are not the only ones that are beautified for the evenings events. Haymitch and I have to go to the day spa the mentors are required to visit before the parade. This is where we first start the process of trying to woo sponsors. While at the parade, we walk amongst some of the wealthiest Capitolites in the President's own viewing box while our tributes are introduced for the first time. There are no first impressions greater than the ones we will make tonight. 

I lay back as the lady who beckoned me to the sink starts to wash my hair. She rubs at my scalp and my neck, and it does feel nice; as much as I hate to admit it. She has soft purple hair herself and a smattering of freckles on her pale skin. She cant be more than 16, I think to myself. I sigh aloud at my sadness that this girl will probably be watching the games from her home and cheering on her favorite. 

"Are you alright miss?" She asks. "Is the water not the right temperature for you?" 

"No," I say offering a quick smile. "It's fine."

When my hair is washed, its wrapped into a towel and they lead me to the bathing room where I descend into a warm tub filled with flower petals as three people begin to wash me. Modesty? Yea, you better get rid of that quick if you dont want to die of embarrassment everytime you get ready while you're here. 

They scrub at my fingers and toes, and there is one person delegated to work specifically with my face; keeping it wrapped in a warm towel, then cleansing it, rinsing it, and repeating the process. The petals in the water are chemically enhanced, as no petals coming from nature could ever smell that strong, or sparkle that brightly while submerged in water. I hate the smell of it. It reminds me of Snow, and my opinion of him is lower than any other thing, living or not, in this world. 

Once Ive managed to be wrapped up and moisturized over my entire body, I sit in the chair and wait for a new, yet familiar, team of people to show up. When Cinna walks in I smile at him. His team is already fluttering round me ready to get to work, but Cinna comes up behind me and looks at me through the mirror with a small, sad smile, as if to say 'Here we are again!"

"Have you worked with Peeta yet?" I ask after a moment.

Cinna looks up, surprised that Ive singled one tribute out over the other so quickly. This normally doesnt happen until a few days before the games. 

"Yes," he says. "There wasn't a whole lot to do with him. He's a handsome, strong man. We just played that up with my usual finesse," he says with a touch of humor. 

"Cinna," I say seriously. "We really need your help this year. They need to stand out."

"I work for that every year Katniss," he says sadly.

"No, of course you do. I know that." I say. "This year though Cinna," and my voice dies down as my eyes dart around the room. I am sure there are cameras here...

Cinna nods, and I know he understands what I am trying to say, so we say no more. 

A little while later, he asks what look I am going for.

"Fire," I say and Cinna freezes mid brush and stares at me in shock. "Make me look like the girl on fire."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

When Haymitch sees me approach him in the staging area, he looks at me in mock horror and I roll my eyes at him.

"Don't even give me an ounce of shit Haymitch," I warn. "You are wearing an actual Capitol suit and jewelry on your wrists. We are both doing what we agreed on doing."

Haymitch laughs his annoying little troll laugh that I hate so much. "Yea, I know we are. You just shine up a lot better than me is all. I thought you hated the fire reference."

"I do. But that's what they want me to be. For him Ill do it."

"You mean for them, not just him, right?" Haymitch says, trying to call me out on what he thinks was a mistake. I just stare at him unwavering. He nods his head. He knows I am fully resolved to do what I said I was going to do. 

"Whoooooooaaaaaa," we hear from a voice to our right, and I smirk at Finnick as he walks up to me. 

"Katniss, my god,' he smiles cockily, "aren't you a vision." He takes my hand and twirls me around.

Cinna really did do an amazing job. My hair is down, voluminous with soft waves. My dress is the color of lava, and made from a material that shimmers with every movement. The train of it makes it look like sparks are flying up from it with each step I take. My eyes are overly done with smoky shadows and lashes that extend for days, the shape of my cheekbones accentuated, and my lips are lined and covered in a sheer shimmer. It's how everyone wants to see me, like I said to Haymitch, so tonight Ill indulge them. 

"Hey Finnick," I say. "I see they still haven't found you an entire wardrobe?"

He laughs at me. "Nope. Ya know I dont think they ever will." He winks at me and I shake my head at his feigned vanity. Once you get to know Finnick you learn what his coping mechanisms are. I will never begrudge him any of them. 

The doors behind us open loudly and we turn and look as the tributes come filing out. I get my first true look at the competition that Peeta and Ellyn have, and I'm actually encouraged by it. There are truly only a few men that look bigger than Peeta, and Ellyn looks to be in better shape than more than half of the women. They all have serious looks on their faces as I try to decipher which ones belong to which districts. Before I can get too far into that, My tributes walk out of the doorway. 

Ellyn looks like an absolute goddess of war. She is in a skin tight pewter colored leather jumpsuit that is covered top to bottom in dark crystals. Her long blond hair is done in a large knot on the crown of her head, and her eye make up is muted and her skin is pale with soft contouring of her cheeks. Her lips are bright red. Cinna is the master.

After I am done taking her in, I look to Peeta behind her and I am breathless. He is walking towards me in dark colored pants, and a black low cut shirt under a pewter colored leather jacket. His black leather army boots end high on his calf, and the jacket is covered in what I remember to be coal crystals. They didn't shave his face, so he has blonde scruff, and his hair is purposefully disheveled. What really has my attention are his eyes... it's almost as if...

"Cinna promised they'd go back to normal in the morning," Peeta says, and I jump a bit not realizing how close he was to me.

"So they did.." I trail off.

"Yea," he smiles. "My eyes are blue, but not _this_ blue," he laughs and I smile at him. 

"You look.... wow.." he says, and his eyes roam over every bit of me it seems. I'm thankful for the heavy makeup because I'm sure it covers the blush I feel rising to my cheeks. "There may not be words," continues, "just so beautiful."

"Thank you," I say almost shyly. Normally I try to have people not look at me, but I stand there as Peeta surveys me with this look of awe in his face. "I have a lot of work to do tonight," I say softly but loud enough so he can hear me. "I need to bring you home."

Peeta's head drops but he keeps his eyes trained on mine. The intensity of it makes my heart skip a beat. His nostrils flare a bit and I can see him shift his weight nervously.

"You really want me to come home?" He asks.

"I really need you to come home." I reply, and I know he catches how I changed the wording. I really dont know what's coming over me, but I'm falling down the rabbit hole quickly. I'm not sure I can even bring myself back. All I know is that I am so drawn to every part of Peeta, and now that Ive finally gotten to know him, I don't want to let him go.

"Places, everyone!" The horse wrangler shouts, and Peeta doesn't seem to want to look away from me as he boards his chariot. 

Ugh, these stupid fucking chariots, I think. God I hate this place. I hate that Peeta has to be in this place.

"Listen you two," Haymitch starts. "Above everything else, you need to look unafraid. Do not look eager to get to the arena, but look assured that you like your chances. Quiet confidence promotes a sense of mystery, people will want to learn more about you. Smiles at the crowd but no frantic waving. If anything just extend your hands out to them in a still wave. You're not children. Any innocence they think they find in you will not benefit you. Got it?" 

Both Ellyn and Peeta just nod. Ellyn looks slightly panicked as the gates open to start the parade. I reach up and place my hand on hers. "Calm. Just be calm. This is easy. Deep breaths and confidence." I glance over to Peeta and he is smiling at me. I'm not dumb. I know he is going to help her in that arena. Just now, at the same time, he will be trying to survive for himself too. If I help her, I help him. There really is a chance he could come home. 

The music starts and the President is about to address the audience before the chariots emerge. Haymitch and I turn to go, but before I leave, I place my hand on top of Peeta's as well. Touching his skin leaves mine burning to have more contact with him. He lifts my hand and without truly kissing it, he just rests his lips on the back of my hand while he takes a deep breath; like the sheer contact with me is giving him strength. His eyes roam over me again, and in that moment I really do feel like the girl on fire. 

"See you soon, " he says so only at can hear.

"See you soon," I echo, and turn to head up to the box to convince every sponsor there that Peeta will be the next victor of the games. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

I'm about to enter the lift with Finnick and Mags, but Haymitch stops me. 

"Sorry guys we will catch the next one, I need to talk to Katniss for a sec." 

"Uh-oh, whaddya do Kat?" Finnick asks, and I just shrug my shoulders at him, annoyed that Haymitch is going to cause us to lose time. "Well good luck," he says in his sing song voice while the doors close on them.

I turn to Haymitch absolutely exasperated. "What?" I ask sharply.

"What do you mean what? You know perfectly well what, dont bull shit me!"

Ughhh I groan and roll my eyes. I hate when he gets like this. 

"No Katniss, seriously. It's time to be really honest. Who is this boy? Because your not acting like someone who doesn't know this guy. Or maybe you dont, but it sure seems like you've done the dirty with him." 

"Ugh, God damn Haymitch you're so crude. It's not like that.. I .. I just.." I find myself stammering and I'm so annoyed with myself I could scream. "Haymitch," I reset. "I told you from the beginning what his life meant to mine. Why are you acting shocked by it now."

"Because I thought this was about repaying him a debt!! Not that this was about you wanting to Shack up with with the guy."

I want to yell at him. Come up with some truly wonderful sarcastic bit that will shut him up, but instead I'm caught up in a two second fantasy about what having an entire life to get to know Peeta would be like...

"Fuck," Haymitch groans, as he gets into the lift. I follow two steps behind him.

"Haymitch, it's really not like that, why do you always have to be such a dirty old man? Truly, he means a lot to me for reasons I dont even understand. Trust me though, he is worth saving."

"Please," he starts, as he holds his hands up signaling me to be quiet. "Ill go with this. Ill fight for him, but I need you to stay thethered to the ground. If he makes it back, he wont be the guy he is now. You know that."

I look up at him distressed, because it honestly hadn't occurred to me. I wrack my brain trying to think of a way to both save Peeta's life and his soul at the same time.... 

"Haymitch do you think Marchant will be here tonight?"

"Yes," he answers questioningly. "Why?"

"No reason." 

The doors close, and we head up to the lions den. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

We've been mingling now with the other mentors and potential sponsors for about twenty minutes. Snow has already done his pre-parade address to the public, and the music has started. The games have officially begun. 

I keep glancing around looking for this new game maker. I did my research, and Effie and Haymitch were not exaggerating. Draykon Marchant is an evil man. In the photos I saw I was shocked at his apparent youth. He is in his early forties, which means the last time he was game maker was when he was in his twenties. That alone was shocking because most game makers are the age he is now, and he has been in forced retirement for nearly 20 years. 

"Katniss!" I hear to my left, and I turn to see Mr. Greeken and his wife walking towards me. I smile as they approach, but I am always wary of any interaction with this particular people. One wouldn't think a middle aged man who is small in frame with receding hair would be any sort of a threat. I know better. He enjoys brutality, and from what I hear, pays a pretty penny to indulge some very dark fantasies. 

"Hello, Til", I say, using the nickname he has had for a while now. "How are you and you're lovely wife doing this evening? These games promise to be incredibly interesting this year."

He slows down as he gets close to me, and I can see the amusement in the grin on his face. I don't typically talk like this to sponsors. I never talk about the games so flippantly, as if they are something to be enjoyed, but Greeken has a lot of money. I need it. 

"Yes, I agree with you!" He exclaims while his slimy hands run down my arms. I do my best not to shudder. "So have you heard then? About Marchant?"

"I have," I reply. "I was not around during those years, but I hear he was a game maker not to be forgotten." I can taste the vomit rising in my throat. I hate pandering to these sickos. I fucking hate it. 

Greeken laughs as though it's the funniest thing in the world. "No, you do not forget him. I was a big supporter of bringing him back you see, so naturally, these games carry a little more excitement!" 

"Well, how wonderful for you," I say. "You are an important man Til, I'm glad to see you happy."

"Thank you Miss Everdeen," he says as he puffs his chest out a bit at the compliment I've given him. "You know," he continues, "I'm throwing viewing party for the first day of the games. My guests would love it if one of their favorite victors could be in attendance. I know mentors don't typically do that sort of thing..." he finishes.

"I'd be glad to," I reply heartily, though the words almost stick in my throat. 

"How splendid!" He exclaims.

His face gleams but his eyes go dark and he surveys me in a way that would scare anyone. I shift uncomfortably. He has always wanted to talk with me, and Ive never been so cordial. He is not a dumb man, he knows there is something that I need, and I can see him thinking up every possibility he can to get me to pay for it. Before I can make an escape plan, I see his eyes light up at something going on behind me. I turn and see that another man had entered the room. By the way everyone is fussing over him, I'm guessing it's Marchant. 

"Oh, Til, is that your friend Draykon? Would you mind introducing me?" I ask, and even though I can feel myself trembling, I try to think of Peeta's eyes to remind me of the courage I'll need and how far I'll have to go to make sure he comes home.

"Of course my dear," he says. He wraps his arm around my waist and ushers me towards a man I wish I would never have to have any contact with. 

He is swarmed by admirers. Every Capitolite there seemingly desperate to know his secrets and what surprises he has in store. I'm interested in that too, but for very different reasons. He is a tall man, broad and strong, with dark green eyes. His skin is tanned, and his light brown hair perfectly coiffed. His face seems permanently pulled into a smirk that gives off the impression of superiority. He is imposing. I hated him before, and I hate him more now. 

"Draykon!!" Greeken shouts, and his friend immediately turns. I can tell he is surprised to see me accompanying him. "Draykon," he continues when we are mere inches away. "I'm sure she doesn't need an introduction, but let me present to you Katniss Everdeen."

"Mr. Marchant," I say as pleasantly as possible while I expand my hand. "It's a pleasure. Mr. Greeken was just telling me about you." I finish. 

Marchant looks at me rather coldly, and I'm nervous that somehow Ive messed up this meeting. He then extends his hand slowly and shakes mine. A smile splays on his face that has no warmth to it, and I feel a shiver down my spine. I might be in over my head here....

"Of course," the game maker acknowledges. His voice is deep and raspy, it takes me off guard. "Miss Everdeen," he continues. "What an immense pleasure." 

He looks me up and down, and I can see the cold smile turn into an amused smirk as he takes in my fiery ensemble. 

"You're a dream, " he says, motioning to all of me.

"You're too kind," I reply short and sweet. I'm in unfamiliar territory, and I dont wanna stick my foot in it. 

"No truly," he asserts, "I've not seen such beauty in a long, long while."

"I can't imagine that to be true," I say as playfully as possible. I try to steady myself because dancing with the demon is so much harder than I thought. I feel like I am betraying everyone who I ever loved. Everyone who is dead because of me. I'm ashamed. I have no other choice.

"Believe me," he says, as his voice drops even lower. He has pulled me in by my waist and I can feel his breath on my neck. "I have not."

He releases me from his grasp, and I step back slightly overwhelmed. Again I try to take some deep breaths and keep Peeta's face in my mind's eye, but when I look up and see the smile on Marchant's face I feel the blood drain from mine. 

"Excuse me Miss Everdeen, there are many people here I must speak with."

"Of course," I reply and quickly move out of his way as he strides towards some of the other wealthy patrons. 

I feel so disgusting, even conversing politely with someone like that, I feel tears start to brim in my eyes. I hold my breath and look up as though there is something amazingly interesting on the ceiling. When I glance back down again Finnick is in front of me, and I sigh in relief.

"Oh thank fuck," I whisper, and lean in for a small hug. When I pull away, I see a sadness on Finnick's face. "What's wrong?"

He looks around the room, surveying our level of privacy before he responds. "Kat, IM not sure you know what you're doing."

Of course I dont and I nod in agreement. He sighs sadly...

"Listen, every mentor has been down this road before- the one you're looking to go down now. If Haymitch denies it, he's a filthy liar," he proclaims. "We do whatever we can for our tributes, we all do, but do not give them anything you can't afford to give Katniss, trust me." He breathes deeply before he goes on, "I don't know what you're going for here, but please. Please be careful. These aren't people to be messed with lightly... you know that right?"

A tear escapes against all of me efforts, and I try to smile so no one notices. "I know Finn, I know," I assure him. "But I have to bring him home." I finish. I walk away from him before I do something stupid and irredeemable. I head to my seat as the parade has started. Haymitch sits next to me, and squeezes my leg in support.

Half an hour later and District 12 is finally announced and our tributes ride in. Leave it to Cinna to captivate the crowd. The crystals on their outfits give off some sort of irredescent smoke that shines as they ride by. The entire crowd gasps and starts to shout and wave to the two individuals riding in the chariots. Ellyn looks stunning as she gently smiles at the crowd and holds her arm up above her head. Men and women call her name, but it gets drowned out by the name of another.

Peeta has won the crowd, and the smile on my face could never be mistaken for anything other than exuberant joy. He has put both arms into the air keeping his balance perfectly. You can see confidence radiating off of him, but more than that, his smile is soft and inviting. The people of Panem have chosen a favorite, and thank fuck it's him.

As he rides by, I see him look up to the box. I know that he knows I am here. I'm not sure if he can see me, but he is looking for me. As I stare back, I finally stop trembling. I'm here Peeta, I silently say to him. 

Between the two of us, we can do this.

We can bring you home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's everyone feeling bout it? ;) Ive sat on this for a while. I had other fics that needed my focus so they were done well (hopefully anyway) So I'm excited to test the waters here.


	5. Reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness! Ive worried all of you! I apologize for it, but I think it may be a good thing in the long run ;) Please forgive me!

The parade has ended. This part at least, is now behind us. I'm in the ladies lavoratory and reapplying the lip shimmer Cinna supplied me with. The nights festivities are far from over. Luckily for me, Marchant has been occupied with every mentor and citizen he comes into contact with. I've been able to simply watch over the circus that plays out before me. 

Peeta's name has been shouted from nearly everyone's lips. As far as I can tell, he is one of the top three in terms of crowd popularity. It's precarious, premature, but it's hope that I will hold onto for now. Ellyn has fared well also. I've heard her name plenty of times, and one cameraman seems quite taken with her as she has received more close ups than most of the other tributes. 

Snow's ending speech had me confused. There was much more talk about why the games came to be in the first place.  ' _How sad it would be, for us to forget ourselves and put us back into a time of turmoil. Let these games serve always as a reminder of what happens when we lose our way'._ It was enough to make me nervous. He normally puts on the airs of a man in admiration of the citizens who are about to play the games. This was..... different. No one else seems to be conversing about it, but I'm certain there was something in that speech, some meaning I can't yet make sense of. I make a mental note to remember all of it I can.

I run my hands through my hair and take a look at myself in the mirror. I normally try to avoid looking at myself. I can't explain the anxiety I feel when I see my own reflection, but every time I do steal a glance, I feel breath taking sadness. I am done up the the heavens, yet all I want to see is the girl with the braid down her back and her face clear of the touch of the Captiol. It's also what it  _doesn't reflect._ I am alone. I see nothing around me, no family, no friends, no love. My hand reaches up and gently grazes my cheek. I know how young I am, but I dont feel young. I feel as though I've lived a thousand lifetimes; each one worse than the last. Somehow though, I'm standing here in the present, a tattered soul posing as a young woman whose painted face hides more than the visual scars it covers. 

I'm jolted out of my thoughts when I hear the door open to my right. I glance over, and see Johanna walk towards the mirror next to me. 

"Looks like you might have a pair of good ones this year," she says with a hint of sarcasm to her voice. It's not me she is being sarcastic to. It's her general tone about everything if it involves the games in any way. She is by far the gutsiest of the mentors. Never giving an inch to the Capitolites who would look to exploit her. We've been alike in that way, most mentors are, at least until now, I think sadly. 

She reaches her hands up and re-spikes her short dark red hair. Her pointed chin and unyieldingly cynical gaze typically give off the impresssion that she is not to be messed with- which is absolutely true. 

"I think we do," I reply. I keep my gaze on my own reflection.

"I talked to Finnick out there just now," she says, and my eyes dart over to her quickly. Here we go. 

"Katniss, don't you even try to fucking make a deal with that son of a bitch Marchant. You hear me? He wont honor it, and you'll lose whatever bit of yourself you still have left. I dont care if you were just planning on him flaunting you around the Capitol or letting him fuck your brains out. Trust me," she says. There is almost no emotion in her voice. She may as well be talking about the weather. "The others though? Those sponsors are relatively harmless. They care more for the esteem they get from being seen with you. You can get things out of them. I'd suggest you find out whether you have a sure fire contender first before you go down that road."

"Holy fuck Johanna," I groan. "I'm not trying to let anyone do anything like that. I didn't know... I didn't think that's what they would want," I finish lamely. Saying it out loud makes me feel so damn naive I could scratch my own eyes out. It's true though. I was taken completely off guard by Marchant's play, but I shouldn't have been. How much more do I have to endure before I fully understand the people here?

"I know you're not," she says, and I'm surprised to hear her voice so soft. "Give them an inch, they take ten thousand miles. So start off with a fraction of a millimeter okay?"

I only nod at her silently. I appreciate what she is doing, but I don't like looking like some stupid, sheltered child. I turn to leave, and to Joanna's credit, she lets me go without so much as a goodbye. 

I quickly make my way back to Haymitch, "Hey, we should go and meet them back at the Towers."

"Sure," he says. "Most of the Sponsors have turned it in. You just missed Snow. Lucky bastard."

I smile at him as we turn to head to the lift. Unluckily for both of us however, Greeken is there. Ugh.. damnit. 

"Katniss, Haymitch!" He starts enthusiastically. "Haymitch did you hear that Katniss has agreed to be a guest at my viewing party at the start of the games?"

"Did she?" Haymitch regards me with both anger and contempt. Double damnit. "Well Til, would you mind if myself and some other mentors accompanied Katniss?" Oh boy.

Greeken looks annoyed for only a fraction of a second, but I can see the disappointment he feels at Haymitch putting a wrench in whatever plans he had for that evening. He seems to think better of it, and slowly starts to nod his head at the possibilities he is now contemplating. "Yes," he starts slowly, "Yes, indeed. I think that may be just the thing Haymitch! I may be the only person to ever have the mentors at his residence for the games!" He now looks positively giddy. 

"Wonderful," says Haymitch, and the fake sing songy quality to his voice actually makes me snort trying to cover up my laughter. He shoots a look of death at me. "Well, Til, please take this lift, we will get the next one."

As Greeken and others load on and leave, I turn to Haymitch waiting for the lecture that is sure to come. 

"Are we just never going to take a lift with anyone anymore?" I say, trying to joke before he lays down the hammer.

Haymitch just stares at me. His face is unreadable. I don't see the anger I expected, but I don't see anything else either. It's making me unbelievably uncomfortable. 

"Haymitch, say what you need to say." 

He stays silent. It isn't until we walk into the next lift that he starts to speak.

"Ya know", he starts, "Did I ever tell you about Chaff from eleven?" I shake my head no. I know Chaff, but I've never spoken to him. I didn't think anyone had. "Well, he was a really good guy. A good mentor. He did everything he could for his tributes, and one year he did it. His tribute won."

I just look at him. I'm sure there is a point to this story, but I don't see it yet. 

"The girl was never the same though. Like so many victors, she lost her mind, descended into madness. Eventually, she ended it herself."

It's a horrifying story. My breath is stuck in my throat hearing it. It could be any of us, at any time. I drop my eyes to the ground, not wanting to hear anymore. 

"Chaff was never the same. He watched someone he worked so hard to save, someone he came to love, destroy herself. Ever since then, Chaff has never uttered a word to anyone; except to the sponsors he still tries to get to help yet another tribute he will probably lose."

I think about the mentor from eleven. He always sits by himself. I've never seen so much as a smile from him, let alone hear him speak. I now understand why, and it makes me ache for him. 

"Do you understand Katniss?" Haymitch asks. I look up, and there are actual tears in his eyes. "Katniss, I'll never recover if I lose you. Please, please dont destroy yourself."

There is a part of me that wants to console him; a part of me that wants to reassure him that I wont do that to him or to myself. I can't. I can't because there is another part of me that feels such anger and hurt at the situation we are all in that I feel I've already lost my mind. 

"Haymitch," my voice sounds cold. "Everyone needs to back off. I am going to bring him home, and I dont know why you still haven't understood that I will do whatever it takes!"

"Katniss," he starts quietly..

"NO!" I interrupt him, and all of my pent up frustration starts to boil over. "No Haymitch! You don't understand! He saved me! He saved me! He didn't have to but he did. And he always watched out for me, I know he did because he was always there! I thought he always would be, so I never talked to him. I never ever thanked him. And now look where he is!" I start to cry. "He was always there," I choke out. "Always. I didn't even realize how much I relied on that, how much I needed to know he was there. I didn't even know him Haymitch." I look up at my mentor and I know he can see the panic I'm descending into. "I didn't know him, I never tried to, I took him for granted, and now I may never know him!" 

Haymitch grabs me and wraps me in the tightest hug we have ever shared. "Shh, shh. I'm so sorry sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry." 

My emotional release is short lived, however. The doors to the elevator open, and I gather myself quickly. I can't show anyone any weakness..... ever. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

We reenter the penthouse and Ellyn and Peeta are already there. We walk up and congratulate them on a job well done. 

"Really?" Ellyn asks, "Were we really okay?"

"You really were," I smile at her. "I think from the crowd's reaction you guys are at the top in terms of popularity."

"I agree," Haymitch says. "Early markers have you guys in the top 3 for the men, and top 5 for the women. I don't think we could have ever done any better."

"Wow," Peeta almost whispers. "Why? What did we do that could have helped that much?"

I smile sadly at him. He really doesn't know. He has no clue how amazing he is. "You guys looked strong, and beautiful," I say. "Ellyn, people really were entranced by you. Peeta, no one looked stronger. They way you extended your arms the way you did, and your gaze still looked kind... really, congratulations. This part is done. We still have a lot of work to do."

Ellyn smiles and grabs Peeta into a hug. He laughs just a bit, and turns his gaze to me. I'm surprised I haven't died of a heart attack with the amount of heartbeats I've skipped since this whole thing has started. I smile back at him. 

"Alright you two. Get some rest. Tomorrow is packed," Haymitch advises. I start to walk to my room when I hear, "Peeta, can I talk with you for a sec?"

I whip back around to see Peeta walk with Haymitch into his room. Haymitch glances my way quickly before he closes the door, and I'm left standing there, a bundle of nerves and my mouth open.

<><><><><><><><><><>

I'm sitting on my bed an hour later, still in my dress and makeup, as I sip the coffee I ordered. It's probably dumb as shit to be drinking this when I'm already so jittery I can barely sit still. Oh well, I think, there was no way that I was going to sleep tonight anyway.

I stand and walk to the window on the other side of my room. I look out at the lights and the life of the Capitol. If one was ignorant to the ways of Panem, you might actually find beauty in the picture that's before me now. People are running around the streets, laughing and signing. There are lights of all colors, and I can even hear music. You could almost forget the evil of it all.... almost. I place my hands on the glass and rest my forehead against it as well. It feels cool on my skin, and I try to take as many breaths as possible to reel my emotions back into myself deeply. 

"Katniss," I hear and I whip around and get low to the ground, as though bracing for an attack.

"Oh, oh my God Peeta," I shriek out, "Fuck you scared me." My heart is pounding and I slide down to the floor against the window trying to catch my breath. "Word to the wise? Don't sneak up on a victor. You're lucky I didn't have anything I could throw at you."

"I'm sorry, oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" He says as he takes a few cautious steps towards me. "I knocked, but no one answered, so I just thought I'd see if you were okay."

I look at him curiously, but am distracted by the way he looks tonight. He is out of his parade clothes, and in thin sleep pants and a sleeveless night shirt. His hair is washed, still damp, and brushed off to the side though some still falls down into his eyes. He looks beautiful. So beautiful it physically hurts me. 

"I'm okay," I whisper. "Why did you think I wouldn't be?"

He walks over and offers his hands to help me up. When I stand up, I realize its too quickly and I struggle to find my balance.

"Whoa," Peeta says and he wraps his arm around my waist to help me find my footing. "You really need to eat something," he says concerned.

His arm lingers there for a moment, then seems to remember himself and moves back a step or two. I immediately miss the contact. We just stand there quietly for a minute. Yea... it's awkward. My mind starts to backtrack over the past few days with him. So much has happened in the past 72 hours, and its all so fucking unbelievable, that I can't help it and I do something horrifying... I laugh. Oh my god... someone needs to stop me because I can't stop laughing!

I look at Peeta, and I at least am thankful that he is shaking his head at me with a big smile on his face, and not looking frightened at the crazy girl in front of him. 

"What's so funny?" He asks, with a hint of his own laughter in his voice. 

"Nothing," I laugh harder, "there is nothing NOTHING funny, and I'm a fucking idiot." I walk and collapse onto the couch at the foot of my bed, put my head in my hands and wait to die of embarrassment. I look like a complete and total basket case.

A few moments later, I think I can handle myself, and I look back up fully expecting Peeta to now be horrified. He doesn't seem that way at all though, he looks... happy. I show him my surprise by cocking my head to the side and shrugging my shoulders. "Ugh, Peeta I'm sorry. I must look insane."

"No! God no, not at all." He laughs as I shoot him a disbelieving look. "Really!" He smiles, "It's nice to see you smile, you have a cute laugh."

A cute laugh? Oh my god. I'm in the capitol, as a mentor, with the a man I find myself infatuated with, who is also my tribute in the Hunger Games, and he is telling me I have a cute laugh. I descend into laughter again, and I'm hating myself!! Before I can curse myself out, I hear Peeta next to me. As I look at him I can hear and see him laughing too. This cannot be reality, right??

"I'm sorry," Peeta laughs, "I always nervously laugh when someone else is laughing!" That just eggs me on. It's awful!

We look at each other as we try to get this ridiculousness out of our systems, and eventually it does. We are left still sitting next to each other with smiles on our faces. I don't think I've ever laughed like that. It sobers me, just a little, to remember there hasn't been much to laugh about. Even now, its how _unfunny_ things are that made things funny.

"That was embarrassing," I admit. "It's... it's just been a very very surreal few days." I instantly regret saying that. Peeta is the one whose life is in the balance. I don't want to minimize that. 

Peeta sees my change of mood, "No Katniss, it's fine. I know it's been crazy for all of us."

I thank him for being kind about my slip with a small smile. "This must be so hard for you... I know. I wish this wasn't real right now."

"You'd think I'd feel the same," he says, "but part of me doesn't."

That surprises me. 

"Believe me, I don't want to go into the arena, but then.... well," he hesitates, "For years I'd wanted to talk to you, and maybe if this hadn't happened, I never would have. I'm thankful for that."

I feel so weightless, and guilty, from the moment of happiness I feel from that.

"Why do you think we never talked?" I ask.

"Ah geez," he remarks and rubs the back of his neck. "So many reasons. I'd been wanting to talk to you since we were 5, can you believe that? Man, even at 5 years old, there was something I would never get over about you. It started with your singing."

"My singing?" I ask surprised. I hadn't really sung since my dad died, my moment in the arena the only exception. I can't really remember a time where I used to sing; let alone sing in front of people.

"Oh yea," he states, "You sang in school, and it wasn't just your voice, it was... everything. It just grew from there. You know you're  beautiful?" 

I never take compliments well, but I'm breathless listening to Peeta now. I never thought myself very much to look at, but hearing Peeta again say he thinks I'm beautiful... it makes me feel it. 

"You've always been so strong. And so honest. You never said anything you didn't mean, and you always took care of everyone. Honestly, you seemed to good to be around most people."

"Oh God no," I disagree with him here. "Peeta, I was always rude and distant. I could never relate to anyone, or even really care to try. I was so focused on..." I remember Prim and my mother, "other things..."

Peeta loses the look of happiness on his face and I regret it. I dont want him to remember and pity the girl who was desperate for scraps.

"You always took care of the people you loved. You did everything you could to keep them alive. It's one of the things I love and admire about you. It's why I'm here tonight," he whispers the last words.

"What do you mean?" I ask, oblivious to the obvious. 

"Haymitch talked to me Katniss," he says and I groan and drop my head in my hands. His tone lets me know Haymitch talked to him about what I was scared he was going to talk to him about... Fuck. 

"Don't be mad at him," he asks of me. "I'm glad he did. I learned a lot."

.... what?

"What did you learn," I ask, genuinely confused as I look up into his wide blue eyes.. 

"I learned how far you were willing to go for me," he says. Despite my shame I can't look away from him. 

"And I think that the reason you were willing to go so far, was because you feel for me the same things I feel for you..." he says, and I see him try to gather his strength to say all of the things he wants to say.  "But it is a little different. I think it's a little newer for you. Because what I feel for you," he continues, "Is that I've loved you for so long, that I don't remember what it is not to love you. I wish I had been courageous enough to tell you that a long time ago. I hope you'll forgive me that I'm only telling you now..."

Tears come to my eyes. How is it possible that all of this could be true? That after never speaking, but seemingly always in each other's lives, we could be here talking about this in this place? I believe every word he says, because in the most distant of ways I lived it with him. The tears roll down my cheeks, and all I can do is nod my head and offer him a small smile. 

In an instant, he is before me on his knees, with his hands cupping my face while trying to keep me looking in his eyes.

"My God Katniss," he can barely whisper. "This is why I can't let you do whatever it is you're planning to do."

"Peeta," I just can't." I cry softly, "I cannot lose you now. I only... we only," I lose my words and I sigh in frustration, though Peeta is still cradling my face. "I need you to come home," I finish with what I have been saying for the past two days now. 

"Not like this," he says with urgency. "Katniss not like this. I promise you I will do everything I can, as long as it feels justifiable. But please, please promise me you won't do anything drastic?"

"What if it could help you?" I ask him.

"Noooo," he says, dragging the word out for effect. "No it could never help me. Because if I knew that someone hurt you, so you could help me, I couldn't live with it. If I knew someone touched your cheek, but they didn't respect you, I'd break. If I knew someone ran their hand through your hair, but didn't see how beautiful you truly are, it would break my heart. If I knew that someone tried to touch you, or kiss you, when all Ive wanted in my life was to touch and kiss you, a part of me would be ruined." 

He breathes these words out at me like he is reciting a prayer that he believes with such intensity he might die if he doesn't say it aloud. The tears roll down at will now, and I lean into the touch of his hands, as I gasp for breath. I don't deserve this... I don't deserve him.

"Please," he pleads with me, "Please don't give yourself in any way to anyone who doesn't deserve you. I promise you I'll do everything I can, okay?" Peeta starts crying his own tears now, "I will do everything I can to get home. We just... we need to stay who we are for each other okay? Please, please promise me? I want us to stay who we are. Promise me."

I can't stop what I do next anymore than I could stop the games. I crash myself into him and my lips finally meet his. We are both crying so it's messy, but the feeling of my mouth on Peeta's is instantly addicting. His lips are so soft, and so so good. I lick along his bottom lip and shiver when I hear him practically growl at it. His hands entangle themselves in my hair and he holds me in this kiss as though he is afraid I may disappear at any moment.

He starts to stand and pulls me up with him, he presses his body up against mine, and I moan into his mouth. He pulls away, and my eyes can barely focus in time to see the desperation and want in his eyes, or how hard he is panting for breath. His arms wrap around my waist as he lifts me up in the air, and I lower my head back down to reconnect my lips to his. He is walking while holding me, and suddenly I feel myself pressed up against the window. I immediately wish I had taken this god forsaken dress off, because it makes it so hard to wrap my legs around his waist, and all I want to do is chase as much contact with his body as I can. I can't help the moan that escapes when I feel his hips push up against me, and when I do he takes his moment to take his tongue and gently lick up my neck to behind my ear. I pull his head into my neck harder, and he is emboldened to suck and bite at the skin there.

"Oh my God," I hiss, "Peeta... please, Peeta." His breath is hot and wet on my neck and I'm dizzy with how aroused I am.

"Shit," he whispers as he shivers at hearing me moan his name, and again he presses his hips up, and this time I can feel his hardness between the fifty layers that are between us, and oh my god.. there is a lot there.. I start to writhe my own hips, against his length desperate for the friction it provides.

Peeta throws his head back and groans as he feels me sliding up and down against him. When his head comes back up, he stares at me as he places me down on the floor. We stay entangled together for only a moment before he suddenly jumps back as though he had been burned.

"Wha.... what is it?" I ask, barely able to form the words. "What's wrong?"

Peeta looks wild, his eyes still a more electric shade of blue, and his hair is completely messed up.. it's so so unfairly sexy, that I really do have to stop myself from jumping on top of him.

He takes his hands and pulls at his hair a bit, as though the pain will tether him back down to the ground. 

"Oh my God," he says and there's a reluctant smile on his face. "Ughhhh, oh my God."

"Peeta... what?" I say somewhat impatiently, and he looks up and gives me a fully amused grin. I'm less amused. 

"Katniss, it doesn't seem fair. I'm, in this moment, getting everything I have ever wanted. But... well.... I had always imagined... I mean I had always planned..." He stammers, and it's so endearing I find myself smiling at him.

"What," I say much more softly.

"You're gonna think I'm an idiot, but I just wanna.... ugh, fuck I know we can't take it TOO slow, I mean we are kinda pressed for time. I wanna do this right... I so wanna do this right with you.... for you."

He is being noble! He sees my surprised smile and laughs. "I know it's crazy. We really dont know what's going to happen. But i want to do for you all of the things I always dreamed of doing for you."

My eyes well up. For just those few moment where we were caught up with each other I could forget about why we were here. We are back in reality now. What he is saying is so surreal considering the situation we are in, but I want it so badly.

"Okay," I say.

"You'll allow it?" He laughs.

"I'll allow it," I smile. 

He looks so innocent in his happiness that my heart both feels full and breaks at the same time.

"I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Yes," I say. "See you in the morning."

He walks slowly to the door and as he exits he smiles at me. The door closes, but not before I hear him mumble something about a cold shower, and I laugh.

I go to my own bathroom and start undressing and taking the makeup off my face. When I finally climb into bed, I'm thankfully to tired to think of anything, because if I wasn't, I'd be panicked at what all of this will mean when the games actually start.

 


	6. Bittersweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaks my heart..
> 
> Thank you all so much for your unbelievably kind and supportive comments. They mean the world to me, and I am so happy you all seem to like the story so far!!! I hope I can finish it all off in a way you will also enjoy.

The start of the day comes much too soon, and a frown takes over my tired face as I realize that I'm up before the sun- I had only fallen asleep a few hours before. I was in the middle of a dream so sickeningly plain, and it was delicious. There were no games; no one had died, and I was teaching Peeta how to climb up my favorite tree so he could see the view of the forest that I love the most. We sat in that tree and looked at other trees.... that's it.... that was the entire dream. I ache for it. 

I meet the rest of our group at the dining table, where they have already started their breakfasts. I walk to my seat and see that there is a plate already assembled for me, and on it is a stack of toast, eggs, and fruit. I glare up at Peeta, but he is smirking while purposely looking away from me.  Any other person and I would push the plate away and sip my coffee defiantly, but Peeta makes it difficult to be my normal loathsome self. I sit and start eating. It is so rich and decadent, which is shocking for simple eggs and toast. I dont know what sort of magic they use to make things so plain taste so extravagant, but it's intense. It makes me feel nauseas, but I think I can keep it all down. 

Haymitch is looking down on his hologram tablet, and I already know why he has a scowl on his face.

"When did you get the tribute list?" I ask.

"Last night after the parade," he replies with his concentration still on the tablet. "It took them two extra fucking days to get it to us," he grumbles.

"Can we see them," Ellyn asks softly. It's written all over her face; she is showing her fear. We are gonna have to work on that, I think to myself. The games become more and more real each second that goes by, and I don't want Ellyn to lose her composure. She hit a home run during the parade, it would be dangerous to show cracks in her armor now. 

"Yes," Haymitch replies. "We have the video of all of the reapings. It's not a fun watch, but it's necessary. We need to see how each and every person reacted. It typically gives us our first, and most likely most honest, impression of who you will be going up against. This time, since we've already had the parade, we know the faces ahead of time, but the reaction to their names being called can be pretty telling. Eat up, we will get to this after we have finished."

Everyone moves a little slower now, not truly wanting to move on to anything that makes the games more present than they already are. I stare at Peeta, but he is looking down at his plate. His jaw twitches with the tension that distorts his handsome face and his brow is creased. It isn't fear that I see, it's dread. I wish there was something, anything I could do to make this all go away for him. I remember how it felt, watching the reapings. They almost play in slow motion while you watch them. Every time I saw one, I could only think of the phrase 'dead man walking'. It was horrible. Imagining them trying to kill you, or yourself killing them. The twelve year olds that were called were the worst. Like Rue .... and Prim. 

Eventually there is no avoiding it. We all congregate around the viewing screen on the big lush royal blue couches as Haymitch queues up the announcements. We skip over the speech that Snow makes each year, because who needs to hear that again, and we get to district ones drawing. 22 year old Manon Cricher, and 20 year old Raimonda Birch. Manon is as broad as Peeta though much shorter, and has almost no emotion when walking up to stand by the District 1 escort. Raimonda, on the other hand, is actually smiling and runs almost gleefully as she approaches. I'm shocked by that, because even the careers don't typically show that type of bravado. They go for strong, menacing and prideful, not psychotic. I glance over at Ellyn, and I can see her reaction is the same as mine. She glances my way, and when our eyes meet I nod my head softly at her, and extend my hand up signaling stop, reminding her not to get ahead of herself. She takes a deep breath and refocuses on the video.

Girls and Boys, or in this case men and women, do fight and kill members of the opposite sex in the game. It's never been boys against boys or girls against girls in terms of the game itself, but it is that way when it comes to sponsors. Sponsors choose a favorite girl and a favorite boy, so right now I know Ellyn knows she has to somehow woo sponsors away from people like Raimonda. 

We go through silently. Haymitch and I are taking quick notes, but Peeta, Ellyn, and Effie are just watching. Eventually we get to District 12, and Ellyn truly does win some sympathy votes. My chest tightens, as I watch her run up for her sister, with such painful familiarity. Ellyn now has tears running down her face, though I can tell she is trying so hard to not let them fall.  Seeing her sister and family on the screen is reminding her of all she has to lose. I feel a deep sense of guilt. Any other year, I'd have fought like crazy to save her. I feel as though I'm betraying Prim by not throwing my full support to Ellyn.

When Peeta is called, I nearly go dizzy as I am also reminded of what it felt like to hear his name called as Tribute. He reacted so calmly to it. He lifted his chin and puffed out his chest, nodded twice, and with no hesitation walked determinedly up to meet Effie and Ellyn. I look back to him now and he is watching what had happened just days ago with quiet determination. He doesnt seem emotional. In fact he almost seems to be at peace with it. I turn back to the replay and realize there was no one crying for Peeta that day, except for me. As I think on that, I see myself on the screen, and I groan as I watch myself steal Haymitch's flask and throw my head back trying to drink it dry. 

"Ow!" I cry out as Haymitch punches me in the arm.

"I forgot you did that!" He exclaims. "Asshole."

"Good lord," I say rubbing my shoulder, "You act like that was the last liquor left in the world. All you had to do was wait an hour until we were on the train."

"It was two hours," he grumbles. 

Peeta looks over at the two of us and smiles slightly, his mind still processing what he had just seen. It's Ellyn's reaction that requires my attention. She is looking at the floor, and there are so many emotions splayed across her face, I can't decide which one is the most prevalent. 

"What's wrong," I ask her. 

She looks up at me looking like I'm the most dense person on the planet. "Hhmmph," she snorts. "Nothing, I guess," she says facetiously, "Just trying to decide which person looked like they wanted to kill me the most I guess. I thought that was more pressing than remembering your fight over a flask," she finishes with her voice surprisingly soft without an ounce of aggression behind it.

"Hey now," Haymitch starts, but I interrupt him.

"No," I say. "No, she's right." I remember my reaction when Haymitch was drinking before my games. My absolute fury when I thought he was being flippant about Konrad and my situation. Here I am, doing the same thing. "Ellyn I'm sorry. If you ever have to be a mentor, you'll understand. We're not disaffected, and I am sure as hell not trying to be dismissive. We all have to find ways to deal with our realities."

"Yea, I'm sure." she concedes. "It's just that right now, Peeta and I aren't the lucky ones sitting where you are sitting now. I'd do anything to get to be where you are," she finishes under her breath.

A small, completely unjustifiable fire ignites within me- she really is so naive. She has no idea what she is talking about. 

"Oh you think so huh? You think it's lucky that year after year we have to find ways to get people ready to into the games? The families we have to face afterwards? When we weren't able to bring their children home? Because that's our fucking normal." My voice is even, I'm in no way trying to have a go at her. She doesn't understand that there are worse things you can lose than just your life. "We know exactly what it is like to be where you are. Maybe we are super messed up, that this is normal now. We say things that might rub you the wrong way- I got it- but we try to do everything we can for you. Sometimes, I think I'd rather have died in that arena than have to do this year after year. I'd have rather died than seen what Ive seen. Lost who I've lost." Images come rushing in front of my open eyes, voices long gone inundate my thoughts, and the familiar feeling of drowning envelopes me. I pinch my skin trying to stay tethered to reality. "I live with ghosts everyday," I can barely whisper it out. "Surviving doesnt mean winning."

There- I said it out loud. The thing you never want to really admit to yourself, let alone others. It's true. Every year after the games, I wish I had died in mine. It's an ugly and escapable truth. 

The room is silent. Haymitch has his eyes closed, undoubtedly reminiscing over times long since lost. Effie is staring off into space as white as a sheet. Ellyn is is looking down at her fingers, and I know she is unsure of whether or not she needs to apologize. She doesn't. How could she know? She is a tribute, so she has every fucking right to be worried about her life. How fucking selfish of me to put my issues on her right now. I rub my eyes as the guilt washes over me. Peeta is looking right at me, his mouth down turned and his eyes soft. I sigh and shrug my shoulders at him, not sure of what more I could or should say. I know I shouldn't do anything that would cause these two people in front of me to lose the will or desire to fight. It just seemed disingenuous to let them believe life was so easy on the other side. 

"I'm sorry," I finally say while rubbing my eyes raw. "I dont mean to paint such a bleak fucking picture, and I don't want you to not fight to get out of that arena. I just..... " I trail off. I have no idea how to recover from this.

Ellyn looks up at me and I'm surprised to see determination back on her face. "I'm remember. I remember your games and what you went through. I didn't mean to insinuate that life was all good on your end. I remember what happened, we all do," she says firmly. "I'm brash... I get it. I know I can be blunt, and I talk without thinking. I just.... keep having these surreal experiences where it seems impossible that this is actually happening!" She pushes her fingers against her temples as she shakes her head with the incredulity of it all. "How did this happen," she asks frantically, "ugh, oh my God... how are we here?" 

We all know that she doesn't expect an answer, and I recall having those same feelings. It was as she said- surreal. 

"Listen up, both of you," Haymitch interjects. "You can't afford to have thoughts like that, because there is no good answer. It will consume you if you obsess over that. The ONLY thing that needs to be on your mind now is how to survive. Got it?" 

Both Ellyn and Peeta nod. 

The rest of the morning goes by and we talk strategy. We have 5 days until the interviews with Caesar, 4 until the scoring odds and rankings come out, and only 4 hours until they go to their first training session. Ellyn and Peeta want to be a united team. Both explain that they feel confident that their partnership will help them in the arena, and that they think they can secure sponsors. I'm going along with it. It's what Peeta wants, and it means I dont have to live with the guilt I'd feel at abandoning Ellyn to whatever the games have in store for her.

The more we discuss, the more confident I feel. We assume that the careers will partner up as they usually have, but even then Ellyn and Peeta stack up against them pretty well from initial impressions. The only thing I worry about, is whether or not they will pose enough of a threat to make them prime targets.

"Do we play this hand out in the open, or keep it close?" I ask. "We want them to get the best training score possible of course, but in the interviews, and how the interact with people until then, do we make it seem like they could be a team to beat, or do we make them look a bit softer? I dont want to put a target on their backs."

Haymitch takes a moment to think that over, but comes to the same conclusion that I have.

"Yeah, I think you guys are gonna have to play this one with a shit ton of deception. Train and learn. Try to not draw a lot of attention to yourselves. Don't show too much bravado. We already did so well in the parade, people will be gunning for you. We gotta dampen that flame to your competitors a bit," He stands and goes to mix a drink for himself, and I see Ellyn can't help but role her eyes. "We can't hide during the training tests or the interviews, because we need to get sponsors that way. I think the best we can do is confuse them about you. Make you mysterious and intriguing. But if we go full warrior? You'll have at least 6 people hunting you down from the jump."

Peeta and Ellyn nod in silent agreement. We continue on and decide for them to focus entirely on defensive techniques, shelter, and medicinal training. I will teach them about hunting, Peeta will teach camouflage, and Haymitch and I will both teach certain fighting techiniques as well as bow training. It's whole heartedly exhausting, trying to fine tune the details of this so called game plan, but inevitable if they were to ever stand a chance. 

A couple of hours later and our tributes have gone to get ready for their training sessions, and I'm left with Haymitch. I stand by the outer wall, which is just a huge window, and look out. It's another gorgeous day. One that I'd love to be home for. The sky is an electric blue with no clouds or haze to dampen its intensity. The sun is nearly at mid day, and I can see that there is a slight breeze as the trees that are scattered within the city sway beneath me. I close my eyes and try it replicate the dream I had the night before behind my eyes. I imagine the cool breeze on my skin, and the warmth of Peeta's touch that would come after it. I've never seen the point in indulging in fantasy or hope. Ive always thought it to be ridiculous. Why would you self inflict the pain of wanting something that would never be? Here and now, I guess I've adopted a new philosophy. A small smile tugs at my lips. It's comforting.... to think of being at home with Peeta. 

I lazily open my eyes, and unfortunately the good feeling is short lived because Haymitch is looking at me with a grin so sarcastic I instantly roll my eyes at him.

"Oh sweat heart," he starts, "keep rolling your eyes. Maybe you'll find a brain back there."

"Dick," I reply somewhat childishly. 

"Fuckbird." He replies, and for some reason I smile at that. 

"Fuckbird?" I question. 

"Ugh I dunno.... I'm running out of insults." 

"Wha... wow, I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yup," he smiles. "Obviously you know I talked to Peeta, but somehow I dont think my message of leave each other alone was well received." He looks at me and raises his eyebrows as he drops his chin. I shrug my shoulders at him, and he shakes his head slightly while grumbling underneath his breath. "Katniss, fine whatever, do what you want. But remember that if Snow thinks you're in any way attached to him- what do you think is gonna happen??" 

"Ive already thought about that," I reply.

"And?" He aks exaggeratedly.

"Nothing, NOTHING, will be brought to the attention of anyone. I promise."

"Uh-huh," he mutters unconvinced. "What could go wrong with that?"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"So what are we going for tonight?" Cinna asks me.

"Ugh," I groan. "I dont know. What says I hate you but you should give me what I want?" 

Cinna laughs at that, and massages my shoulders a bit while he stands behind me. HE is helping my get ready for a sponsor dinner. It's our first real chance to get our tributes the attention they will need to survive the arena.

"So, Peeta? He seems like a good person."

"Uh-huh," I answer warily. Cinna doesn't typically say things like that about our tributes. I look at him in the mirror intensely and almost imperceptibly shake my head. Cinna knows better. There are cameras in these rooms. Our apartments are the only safe spaces. Not because Snow wants us to have privacy, but because a few years back district 6 found a way to bug a room to get intel. It didn't turn out well for their tributes, and Snow had to calm the people that the games weren't rigged, so he went above and beyond to prove each year the the rooms were clean. These spa rooms though? Yea, that's fair game. 

"Okay, so how about earthy tonight? Deep green dress, and purples and browns on the eyes with a neutral lip. We will do a knot on the top of your head, and put leaves around it."

"Leaves?" I ask deadpanned. 

Cinna laughs at me again gently, "Trust me."

"I do."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

When Haymitch and I arrive at the gala, I'm overwhelmed at the exuberance that surrounded us. The outdoor tent is enormous, and surrounding it are people performing the most mind boggling acts of contortion, or swinging three stories in the air. I can't help but look in wonder and awe at the circus that this evening will evidently be. 

When we enter the tent, it is no less remarkable. Rich fabrics with subtle designs in beautiful soft colors adorn the walls, and dozens of crystal chandeliers hang from it's rafters. There isn't a single area that would lead anyone to believe that they were standing in a tent and not some glittering mansion. I can't help but deeply inhale to aromas that surround me, and my mouth waters as I smell rich cinnamon and vanilla. In the middle is a fireplace where they have found a way to make the flames actually dance. The fire changes color as the flames skip around in the pit making all sorts of shapes and images. It's a magic Ive never seen before, and it's captivating. 

 "It is amazing isn't it?" 

I look to my right and see that Draykon Marchant is mere inches from me. He stands tall in his Capitol garb, and even I can't help but to take interest in his floor length jacket in smoky crushed velvet with a beautiful floral pattern. His hair is perfectly unkempt, and his eyes are alight. I can only imagine how excited he is as the games approach. My skin begins to crawl. 

"Yes," I answer softly, "It is."

"I'm so happy to see you tonight Katniss, I was so disappointed that I didn't get to talk with you more on the night of the parade."

"Were you?" I ask feigning surprise. "I can assure you, my company is not all that exciting." I feel Haymitch close in on my left. 

"Marchant," he greets him. "Wonderful to see you. I'm sure you've been busy planning the games."

"Oh of course Haymitch," he replies as a dark smile splays across his face. "These games... " he looks back at the fire and sighs to himself. "These games are my redemption. My chance to really show what I have to offer."

My stomach drops. "Surely, you will leave your mark," I say, but my voice is so damn shaky I am furious with myself. "Anything you can share about what we should expect?"

"Ahh Katniss!" He exclaims as he pulls me in close to him. "You know a game maker cannot reveal anything like that!"

"Oh Mr. Marchant, I promise to not tell a soul." I say as I hesitantly put my hand on his shoulder. It's flirtatious. Dangerous. I know I'm walking a fine line here, and I promised nearly everyone I wouldn't go too far. 

Draykon regards me with a small smirk on his face, and his arm pulls tighter around my waist. I can feel Haymitch's eyes boring into me, but he won't do anything to upset Marchant in this moment. 

"Well, because it's you," he starts, "I can tell you that I've been so interested in things beyond the physical. How far can the human mind be pushed? It will be interesting. I can promise you." 

"I'm sure," I say but its barely a whisper. My voice may betray me, but my eyes do not. I keep them connected to his, trying my very best to match his level of confidence and not let any intimidation show. 

"We feel we may have some good tributes this year. The crowd seemed to love them," Haymitch jumps in. He is testing the waters here- seeing how Marchant reacts to the thought of individual tributes. 

"Yes, I saw. The boy in particular."

"He is not really a boy is he?" I say with a smile on my face. "These are adults. That was quite a twist."

"Ah, yes well believe it or not I had no part in that. Snow seemed to very much want to shake the games up this year. Part of the reason I am back I assume."

"Oh I am sure many people will be happy to see you back," Haymitch states, but I can hear the strain in his voice as he says it. "I know Snow got quite a lot of unfair criticism because of the last game makers poor choices."

I hold my breath in. Haymitch is pushing the limits here, I will him silently to not go too far. 

"What mistakes were those Haymitch?" Marchant lets my waist go and I take a small step back. He seems interested.He knows Haymitch has been around for a long time.

"The choices he made, especially towards the 12 year olds from the outlying districts, didn't sit well with the people. I'm sure you know of some of the completely treasonous riots that happened because of them. That stupid game maker had forgotten that the people always need an underdog to root for every few years. District 12 has had 12 year olds for the last three years. Capitolites had a hard time stomaching the boy crying for his mom. They also tire of the careers winning every year. Just how the audience works. Do you know what happened to Blyder, the game maker, from last year?"

Draykon regards Haymitch carefully. He is clearly not a dumb man, and fully hears the warning Haymitch's words carry. "I don't believe Blyder has returned from his vacation."

"Ah I see," Haymitch replies knowingly. A heavy silence hangs in the air with the two very different men regarding each other. To my relief Marchant doesn't seem upset, he seems curious and intrigued. Haymitch continues, "Well let me assure you, we have been singing your praises to everyone who will listen, and a lot of people are listening with this whole empathetic capitolite movement that's going on right now. I hope you know we are on your side."

"I appreciate it," Draykon answers. "I suppose you'll want me to remember it."

Haymitch laughs and hands Draykon a glass from the tray a servant just brought by. They cheers to each other, and Draykon drinks with a small smile on his face. 

"I hope you'll excuse us, Draykon, Katniss and I have a lot of work to do tonight. We've been getting a lot of inquiries on our tributes, so we need to converse with the sponsors. Again, wonderful to talk with you. Please remember us while you tend to the games."

Draykon looks me dead in the eye, "I will," he says softly. He leans over and brings my hand to his lips before he walks away. When Peeta did that I was dizzy with happiness, with Marchant I'm dizzy with nausea. 

As we walk away my anxiety is impossible to ignore and I try to take deep breathes to calm down. "Haymitch, are you sure that wasn't too far," I whisper at him angrily while trying to smile at the people passing by. "He could take that as a threat. He'll kill them right off the platform!"

"No he won't," he says calmly and I huff out my disapproval. "Katniss, I just did him a  favor. No one is supposed to know about Blyder, I got a tip on it. You can tell Draykon is just as surprised as anyone that he is back involved with these games. He is not wanting Snow to regret that, so making him believe that Blyder was eliminated because he wasn't fair to our tributes? Even if he doesnt really believe it, it's convincing enough that he won't forget it. It might buy us some mercy he wouldn't normally afford."

My mouth hangs open as I listen to him, and the good sense of what he is saying warms my soul. I smile softly at him, and take in the sight of this man in front of me. Again, he is wearing the Capitol suit, but he also is wearing his district 12 pin. His hair is washed and brushed back, and instead of his hunched and dragging posture I typically witness, he is standing tall. I can't help it, I lean over and give him a hug. I never do this and I know I've shocked him, but I can't help the affection because I am so happy to have him on my side, on my team. Despite all he has seen and been through, he really does his best. 

"Well hey there. I love warm fuzzy moments, but if I'm gonna get the district 6 media chick outta her dress tonight I'm gonna need you to look less interested."

Happy moment over.

"For fucks sake Haymitch!!!! Dirty fucking old man!"

He laughs as we walk away towards the rest of the sponsors we need to talk with all night, and I exaggeratedly shiver my shoulders trying to get the disgusting image of Haymitch with anyone out of my head. 

"Alright girly," Haymitch whispers as we approach a particularly wealthy woman. "Here we go again."

All I can do is nod and take a deep breath while plastering a fake smile across my done up face. 

Here we go again...

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Five agonizingly long hours later and we finally get back to the Tribute Towers. Haymitch grunts as he returns to his room, but I collapse on the couch, unable to go any further. I slowly take off my much too painful shoes, and rub my fingers into my soles trying to reverse the damage that was done to them.

"Ahh.." I groan. "Cinna is going to get it..." I say aloud.

"Ha, he didn't quite see the need for sensible shoes eh?" 

I whip myself around and see Peeta coming towards me. He is in the same sleep clothes from the other night, and he is holding a steaming cup of something that he offers to me.

"It's cocoa," he says as I take the hot mug willingly. "It wont keep you up, so I figured it would be better than your coffee."

"Thank you," I say softly and offer him a grateful smile. "Why are you still up?"

"I wanted to see you," he says. He says it so assuredly I feel butterflies. It's really something special, to have someone actually WANT to see you. It's an experience I've never been so lucky to have before, at least knowingly, and it makes me warmer than the cocoa ever could. 

"You wanted to see me?" I ask, almost chasing the feeling by asking him to say it again.

"Yes, I absolutely wanted to see you," he answers. His eyes stare into mine so intently. I feel vulnerable but I'm not running from it. Somehow I feel safe. "How did tonight go?" He asks.

The small peace I was feeling vansishes as I go back into the memories of the night. It was exhausting. It's not just appealing to people for their support and money, which is hard enough, but listening to these people reminisce _fondly_ about the games that have since past. They talk about the death of children as if it's of no consequence. They discuss their favorite moments as though it's not abhorrent that they even _have_ a favorite moment. This night was even worse just because of the sheer excess of the venue. It made people particularly bold and pompous. Money and glamour tend to bring the worst out of people, I've found anyway. 

A few minutes have passed since Peeta asked me the question, and I haven't been able to pull myself out of my own mind long enough to answer. He can feel the sadness that radiates from me and he scoots close so that he is sitting hip to hip with me on the couch, and he slowly wraps his arm around me and I so, so willingly melt into him. I sink down and bury myself into his side, and his arm squeezes me close. I breathe deeply and revel in the sheer scent of him. His arms are so large that they cover nearly all of me as they wrap me up. He rests his cheek on the top of me head, and I close my eyes and try to enjoy the moment.

"Ahh," he says and he slightly pulls away and reaches toward my head. I sit back and stare at him a tad annoyed. I wasn't ready to move. "I broke your leaves." He finishes as he pulls the crunched foliage from my hair. He looks at me and the expression on his face is both apologetic and confused as to why there were leaves in my hair to begin with. It's so.... _adorable_... and that might be the first time I've ever thought that word, let alone use it. 

I can't help but smile and gently laugh, "Well, when in the Capitol right?"

He smiles and nods his head, "Makes sense to me."

We just stare and smile at each other. I almost ashamedly realize that I was not the only one who had a hard day.

"Peeta, how did training go?"

"It went well, really it did. I'm learning pretty fast. Ellyn is a lot like you. She has taken to the bow and arrow skill set pretty quickly. But, I dont really wanna talk about that."

"I understand," I say, "It's just good to know how these things went. Did any of the other tributes take notice or talk with you? Did anyone other than the careers stand out?"

"Shhhhhh," he says and he puts his finger on my lips. "Really, we dont need to talk about it."

I'm a little alarmed that Peeta doesn't see why this is important, and I take his wrist and pull it downwards so his hand is away form my mouth. "Peeta, seriously though this is important. Like _REALLY_ important."

He smiles, and I'm starting to think that maybe he is losing it. It tends to happen.

"I know," he shrugs, "I really do," he finishes with a laugh when he sees my exasperated scowl. "Right now though, I have two questions for you."

"Ooookaayyyy," I say sarcastically. "What?"

"One- can I take you out tomorrow night?" He asks, and I cant help the ridiculously confused look that I offer him in response.

"Peeta," I start, "we cannot go anywhere!"

He laughs, "Okay, okay, I know. I think I just worded it wrong. Will you stay in with me tomorrow night? I'd like to do something for you." He grins at me, and he seems so excited about whatever ideas are playing through his mind that my almost instant skepticism I feel at every moment in my life ebbs away.  

"Okay," I say softly with just a hint of reservation to my voice.

"Trust me, I promise."

The butterflies from earlier on come back as I register how intensely he said those words. Like he wouldn't allow me to not trust him if I said I didn't. It was honest, authoritative, and so fucking sexy I squeeze my legs together as I meekly nod my head in acknowledgement. 

"Good," he says and he licks his lips and gently bites his lower one. Fuck. That's just... wow. I can't stop staring at his mouth, and I'm amazed at how quickly I'm going from concerned mentor to practically panting. The warmth radiates lower in my body and as much as I try I can't mitigate the effect Peeta is having on me.

"Your second question," I prompt him.

His lower jaw juts forward a bit as he takes a deep breath, "I wanna kiss you so bad, I wanna touch you..." he trails off.

"That wasn't a question.." I say dumbly but it was worth it, because it brought out Peeta's smile. 

He brings his face down so his lips are mere inches from mine, "Can I?"

I don't answer with words, as I just bring my lips to his... 


	7. Touched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If smut is not your thing, then skip a good portion of this chapter ;)
> 
> You're patience is so appreciated. I wont forget about you ever! Even if I have to go away form time to time. This chapter I have edited at least a dozen times, which is part of the reason it took so long. Just so badly wanted to get it right. 
> 
> Please leave me your thoughts! Love you guys

This must be what a morphling high was like.... it's taking over

 

Slowly, so _slowly,_ Peeta kisses me. It's maddening, how infectious a single kiss from him can be. His lips move against mine so gently. They feel surprisingly soft, and I almost wonder if Cinna Capitolly enhanced them, because no lips could just feel this way naturally. His hands come up and hold my face close to his. His hands are rough, and in my mind I can see him working in his bakery, fire flames engulfing his hands through the too thin work gloves. My heart swells and the kisses become more intense. I part my lips slightly, the invitation Peeta needed, and I feel his tongue caress over them and push forward. I'm terrified by how much I want this to continue for as long as possible. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as Peeta almost growls as the kisses carry more promise. The sheer taste of him is so intoxicating, addicting.

Peeta pulls back, but I am having none of that, and I chase him forward to keep the contact. He pulls back again. Before I know it I've chased him until I'm sitting in his lap. The trance is temporarily broken when I realize that I'm straddling him, and I can't help but laugh a bit as I pull my mouth away from his.

"Well played," I say with a heaviness in my voice. 

Peeta smiles wide and raises his eyebrows a bit in his amusement, "Oh my god," he whispers gravelly, "Give me a moment as I commit to memory how you just crawled into my lap. I'll play that over and over again for a long, LONG time," he muses playfully. 

I laugh softly at his boyishness, and take a moment to regard his handsome face as I take my hand and gently brush the hair out of his eyes. I've always known Peeta was handsome, but looking at him now- really looking at him- you can see just how beautiful he is. His skin is so soft and smooth. He is almost ethereally fair, a luminescent glow radiating underneath the surface. The blonde hair on top of his head is so thick, and it naturally goes to this sort of messy sexiness. My hand lowers as I caress the side of his face along his cheek, and then jaw bone. So strong, I think. So perfect. 

"So will that be the most intense memory you make tonight," I ask boldly. "Just me crawling into your lap?"

"No," he whispers back as he pulls me back in for a simple kiss. "No, I want much more than that, and you said yes right?"

"Technically, I didn't answer at all," I tease. I'm enjoying this game between us.

Instantaneously, the air leaves the room. _Game..._ the mere thought of the word and I'm taken out of the moment and thrust back into our very daunting reality. In a few days time, the games are what wait for Peeta. I cant help but feel shame. Shame that I'm trying to enjoy this when Peeta may only have days to live. I'm pretty damn sure that Peeta doesn't view it the same way I do, but that doesn't mean that I am wrong. I cannot have this.... I cannot have this at all. It isn't fair. I feel the heaviness of that truth sap me of whatever energy I had left. 

Peeta has picked up on my rather unsubtle change of mood, "Hey, Katniss, don't do that. Please."

"Don't do what," I ask sadly, my fingers pulling on the hem of his shirt. 

"Don't think what I know you're thinking now. Right now I don't want the arena's or the games, or the future in any way to be in our minds. I just want to be here in the now with you. So, so badly." His smile falters when he sees I am unchanged by his words.  "Well, I mean, unless maybe you.. you don't?" He asks, and I feel myself rise higher in his lap as his body tenses. 

"What?" I ask almost sarcastically. _Clearly_ I have wanted this every step of the way. "You do remember me crawling into your lap just now right?" His smile comes back onto his perfect face, but its sad, unassured. 

"But, umm.. I don't want you doing anything because you feel pressured, or guilty or something," he says. Again, he is putting someone else's feelings before his own.  "I mean," he continues, "I'd hate it if you did anything out of pity. I was just so happy with what happened the other night I didn't even think if... if you..." he trails off. His eyes are now unfocused, as I see him contemplating all of the things that are absolutely not true. 

"No Peeta! No, no no," I try to assure him. "Being close to you like this, its been unreal. GOOD unreal," I say and smile at him. "Everything. It's so surreal, after all this time. I.... I don't let myself get close. I don't let people in," I ponder out loud. "I just feel like I'm being selfish. You're going through so much, and I should just be working every second on how to keep you alive and bring you home. I'm feeling things that just... ugh I can't really describe how being close to you has been making me feel. There may not even be fucking words for it. I just don't want to take anything from you that you're not in the place to give. I dont wanna take advantage."

Peeta's eyes widen with incredulity. I shrug my shoulders lamely, because it's the only reaction I can muster. I DO feel like I'm taking things from him, and how shitty of me is that! I look back to him, and roll my eyes when I see a smirk on his face.

"Oh Katniss, please take advantage," he huffs, while wrapping an arm underneath me and swooping us down onto the couch so we are laying side by side. I can't help but giggle. " _PLEASE,_ feel free to take advantage. Take it all," he exclaims and lays back with his arms outstretched. 

"You friggin idiot!" I laugh out loud as I hit him in his chest. "Peeta I'm serious!" I try to sound as serious as I say I am, but he looks so happy in his little act, that I can't keep the wide smile on my face. My cheeks aren't used to this amount of exercise and they really are starting to hurt. "How're you doing this? You should be so angry. You should be so furious that you're here. But.. you're laughing. Smiling. Kissing. Doesn't it seem crazy to you!?"

"Yea," he nods while looking up at the ceiling, "Yea it does. This whole thing is crazy. But I promised myself a long time ago that if I was ever here, it wouldn't change me. That if I was in the position to die- I'd die as me. I told ya that remember? So I am going to be me."

"They're trying to kill you Peeta," I say. I know it's harsh and I feel guilty when I see him flinch a bit. I just want him to fully understand. I need him to be angry at the Capitol. I know I am. Another truth that I had tried to bury keeps pushing towards the surface, and I can't help the wave of distress that flows through me like ice water. "Peeta," I start, "having this? With you and me? I'm worried.. I'm scared that it's taking you out of the mindset you'll need to do this. I'm taking up time that you should be using to prepare. I'm distracting the both of us from what we really need to be doing here. It's the Hunger Games Peeta, not some silly game show!" I can't help that my voice gets louder the more I go on. "They're trying to kill you, and I'm making it easier for them."

I bury myself into his shoulder and the many conflicting emotions I feel have left my mind confused. I don't know if I should scream or cry. So instead, I just lie still, paralyzed. I feel the rise and fall of Peeta's broad chest as he sighs. I feel awful. Ive totally ruined this moment and yelled at him. He has enough going on. Ugh, see this is why I dont get attached to anyone. I ruin everything.... absolutely everything.  

"I'm sorry..." I whisper.

"Don't be," he whispers softly back, and I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. "But I need you to know, that this? What we are doing here? As crazy as it is, it's giving me a the biggest reason to fight. You think you're making it easier for them to kill me? Or that you're taking my head outta the games? It's the opposite Katniss," he says. My chest contracts every time I hear him say my name. He says it with such reverence, like I'm some otherworldly creature that deserves adulation.

"Think about it," he continues, "I was fine with dying. I would have helped Ellyn win. But because I now have a chance to have this with you? It's the ONLY thing that is making me want to fight with everything I have. But I still gotta be me, okay? I promise Katniss, I'll fight. I'll do what I have to do."

He pulls my chin up so I'm looking at him and brushes my now unruly hair out of my eyes. He leans forward and kisses my nose, and I can't help my befuddled look because I don't do sweet- and nose kissing is ungodly sweet. Peeta laughs at me, like he knows exactly what I was thinking. He really did pay attention all those year from afar. 

"But now I gotta ask you a question," he says. "Are you okay with having this? It's only 4 days. Because I know that even if I fight, I might not make it home. I don't want to cause you more pain. I don't wanna hurt you. Ever. " 

I think on this for a minute.  I've been worried about so many things, that I didn't really contemplate what it would be like if I lost him in that arena after I had really started something with him here. Normally I keep my distance to protect myself. But if I do that now, with Peeta, I know I'll regret it forever.

Something happens to me when I'm with Peeta. It's not just the rapid heartbeat or the absolutely comittable offense of laughing like a raving lunatic. Sure, those things happen, but it's something much more profound than that. I'm _feeling_ things when I'm with him. I find myself smiling when I've spent years never smiling. I've heard myself laugh more in these past few days than I have since God knows when. I'm noticing things that I have long ignored, and dreaming of the forests I turned my back on ages ago. My skin, when he touches me, warms me to my very depths. For years people have wanted a Girl on Fire when there was no flame in sight. Peeta has ignited in me something I thought was lost forever. 

 At some point I fell so deeply, and I know there is no way out again. 

"I think I need you," I say and I wish I had better words. "I know I need you, and I know I so badly want this." It's a stunning and unforseeable truth that has shaken me to the core. "I want this," I say again. I let the warmth and promise of what it all means envelop me like a storm. 

Peeta pulls me in close to him and kisses me along my cheek and neck, "You want this," he asks.

"I want this."

"You want me?" He asks, and the jubilation in his voice makes me feel warmer still, and I press my body into his just wanting as much contact as is physically possible. 

"I want you," I answer. 

Peeta's arms wrap around me fully as he assaults my mouth, cheeks, and neck. I grab into his hair and pull him closer. His chest is pushed against mine, and the sheer size of him against me is so arousing I couldn't see straight if I tried. 

"Tomorrow night," I hear him whisper. I know what he is talking about. 

"Ugh Peeta!' I exclaim and push away, "Pleeeassse don't be noble. I want this as much as you do."

Peeta looks at me and there is a dark seriousness in his eyes. 

"There aren't words for what I want to do with you. What I want to do to you. I want to touch every inch of you Katniss, kiss every part of you. I've been fantasizing of every single thing two people could possible do to each other."

"Perv," I whisper, but the sarcastic bravado I was going for fails completely, because I'm breathless- Peet's knows it. 

He laughs out loud, "Oh I think you'll like it. But there are some things we gotta do first. Tomorrow night, okay?"

"Okay."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

"You and your boy are really starting to annoy me," Haymitch starts at me.

I groan at him while filling my mug with a third cup of coffee. "Isn't it to early for a lecture? I'm fucking certain it's too early to look at your face."

"Hardy har har," he sarcastically gripes. "Don't be so dense girl," he says as he pokes me in my forehead. He is so lucky I have hot coffee in my hand or I'd drop kick him for doing that. He senses my anger and does an about face to look my square in the eye.

"You gotta problem with me Katniss? If so, you're missing the fucking point!" He sighs and tries to calm himself down. "You did notice the attention Peeta got last night from sponsors?"

"Of course I did, I was the one who played him up."

"You did really well, really," Haymitch replies. "Just watch it. Eventually they will ask why you seem so keen on the boy."

"I'm not stupid. That's why I talked up Ellyn just as much," I reply with just a hint of annoyance. I really was on my game last night after our impromptu meeting with Marchant. I all but secured two sponsors for Peeta, and I think I even got one for Ellyn from our old pal Greeney. He seemed particularly smitten with her.

"You did," Haymitch agreed. "Better than could have been expected. Just dont get ahead of yourself. Especially today."

I nod knowingly. Today we get to observe our tributes while they train. I'm actually happy to do that, partly because Peeta was so evasive about how training had gone the night before. 

"Peeta didn't say much about training last night," I state. 

"Ellyn told me that it went well. They were approached by the careers. She asked if today after training we could help them decide how to play that."

I cant help my surprised reaction. Peeta hadn't mentioned it to me. I'm more anxious to get down to training and see what's going on. 

"Let's go then," I say already walking to our door.

"After you princess," Haymitch replies. 

I'm too wrapped up in my own thoughts to remember to knee him in his balls. 

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Were waiting behind the two way mirror that runs the entire stretch of the training complex. We can walk around the entire perimeter to observe our Tributes. I'm sipping on yet another cup of coffee as some of the other mentors mingle behind me. Peeta, Ellyn, and the others have not come in yet. I look around and I feel the tension take over me. I hate this complex. I see the weapons that are trained with, and coldness washes over me. It forces me to remember things I long to forget. 

"How yah doing girly?" Finnick has snuck up on me. 

"Hey," I say warmly, "I'm good. You?"

Finnick regards the facility before him much like I had a few moments before. He runs his hands through his hair, and tugs gently. "Ahhh," he sighs. "Just another year for us I think. Our tributes didn't make a great impression at the parade. It seems they're not doing great here either." He smiles when he sees my curious reaction. "I have some friends who are keeping tabs and reporting to me on what they've seen."

"Ah," I reply. "Any word on how mine are doing?" 

"Yup," Finnick regards me carefully. "It's good news for you. You playing to the Careers this year?"

"No," I say firmly. A picture is becoming clear in my head. Peeta and Ellyn are doing better than we thought. If Finnick is asking about our relationship with the careers, then they are making waves during their training. I'm not sure how to feel about it. We wanted to create a mysterious vibe around them, not an all out fascination. "I have a feeling they are doing more than well though," I continue, "Especially if people are wondering if we're aligning with the careers."

Finnick chuckles under his breath, "Your assumption is right. They're doing well. Don't worry though, they are not considered the strongest. They're just a surprise. Coming from twelve and all," he adds quietly when he sees a disapproving look shoot his way.

"People underestimate twelve," I say. Something has me annoyed at his last remark even though I know Finnick would never mean it offensively. "We dont win, but we fight. We've always had to. Even the merchants. You dont survive twelve without being tougher than most."

I turn to walk away to find Haymitch. Finnick, from experience, knows I'm not really mad, just on edge. In twenty minutes time Ill be over it. 

 

 

About a half an hour later and the tributes come into the facility. Before I look for Peeta and Ellyn, I take a look over their competitors. Seeing them up close gives me a better reading on who they are. How they react, how they interact; it all helps paint a picture. There don't seem to be any extreme physical types, nor does it seem there are any extremely weak. A pretty even playing field as far as physicality goes. Even the careers don't look to intimidating- probably why they're apparently so keen on an alliance with us. 

I see Peeta and Ellyn together and a smirk is hinted on my lips. They're standing tall, with their chins held high, without having a single ounce of arrogance to them. Good. They're right on the money as to how we wanted them to present themselves. They don't know we are here. They knew we get a day to observe, but they're not allowed to know what day it is. I almost told Peeta last night, but I got nervous for the risk it could present him with if anyone suspected he had that advantage. The idea is that the mentors will better be able to help guide their tributes to alliances if they are seeing a genuine and unassuming effort in their training. It also gives us a more honest idea of where they really need to focus more of their efforts before the games start. 

The competitors all have assigned areas today. 12, 4, and 8 are all in the combat area. Peeta and Ellyn will take turns in the simulator that will put them in a virtual battle. It's a good thing to practice, and I'm happy they are starting there. 

Ellyn goes first, and she chooses the bow and arrow as her weapon. I feel the other mentors eyes on me. They see the parallels just as the rest of the country has seen it. Ellyn is a lot like me, and I know that people are wondering if we are trying to play up that comparison or not. 

She stands ready with special glasses on and the countdown begins. Suddenly she is transformed into some post apocalypse city ruins, the worst type of arena next to a desert. She crouches down as the stimulation starts. It's so lifelike as we see the projection surrounding her. There is wind, and smells, and sounds of all sorts. A perfect practice tool. Her eyes dart to her left as she hears a small rock get kicked. Within seconds she has turned and gotten her bow ready. An enemy darts out from behind a half burned down wall, and Ellyn lets her arrow fly right into his would be chest. Before she can revel in her win, she jumps behind the simulated wall herself as she hears something behind her. Just in the nick of time she misses a simulated arrow coming for her neck. She stays low behind the wall, straining to hear anything she can. Her eyes dart around making sure she isn't missing something towards her weak and vulnerable side. She has clearly learned. She hears what she needs and darts to the opening letting an arrow fly to her right, she misses her target but is fast to reload while still having the focus to dodge an arrow coming her way. She lets her second arrow fly and this time it hits her target. Quickly she turns as she hears the attack coming from behind her, uses her bow to deflect the daggers blow and takes an arrow with her hand and shoves it into her would be attacker. 

I'm practically holding my breath the entire time. She looks fierce, in control, and deadly. Some of the mentors have taken notice and start to filter in. I can't spare a second to feel any pride, because I see what she does not yet see; an attacker coming from behind and to the left. By the time she notices it, the simulation ends because there was no way for her to defend against that attack. She lost. But no one ever really wins in these simulations. She did as well as anyone I've seen. _Aside from myself_ , I think. 

"That was surprising," Haymitch whispers next to me. Ellyn leaves the simulation and takes a small side hug from Peeta before he enters. "She looked good Katniss. She could score well."

I nod silently in response. He is absolutely right. She did well. Her natural beauty plus her abilities might be enough to make her a true female favorite. I don't have much time to really think on it, because Peeta is ready to start. 

He looks so focused, and his jaw is set firmly and his eyes look dark. He has a machete and a spear in his hands. We had talked about that. A spear is a good weapon. It can stab, be thrown, and help deflect other weapons from himself. I smile a bit as I see he has listened to everything we have been saying. 

The simulation starts, and Peeta is placed in an arena much like my own games. A forrest, with huge trees and a deep valley. He slowly moves backwards while surveying his surroundings. He stops once his back is to the tree, and I nod my approval. Keep your back to something solid if you can. It eliminates an entire plane that someone can attack you from. It's quiet for a few moments, but Peeta doesn't grow restless or impatient; two traits that can kill you. He stays still and waits.

Suddenly a whir in the air has his attention and he uses his spear to deflect an arrow away. He quickly glances in the direction it came from and sees two enemies running towards him. He steels himself in a combat position and gets a good grip on both of his weapons. Soon the two simulated attackers are upon him and I'm shocked at how quick Peeta is on his feet.  He uses his spear to deflect another arrow, and then takes his machete to cut through the bow of attacker number one rendering him weaponless. Attacker number two is upon him and Peeta drops and roles quickly to avoid the stab of the sword that is coming towards him, he quickly rises and takes his machete to the neck of attacker two, while he stabs his spear backwards into attacker number one. It's impressive. I have no idea how he knew where number one was. 

He jumps back quickly because he isn't sure if either one are fully taken out. He only drops his weapons when the attackers dissipate back into nothingness. He takes a breath and moves back into his position with his back to the tree. A few more minutes pass until he hears the crackling of leaves and branches. My hand covers my mouth to stop my instinctive warning I want to shout out at him, but he is more prepared than I give him credit for. He somehow knows that the attack is coming from up in the tree. He doesn't waste any time and dives outwards barely missing the spear that was coming for him. He somehow takes aim and hurls his spear up into the tree and hits his target as the simulated mass falls to the ground.  

I feel Haymitch pinch my side, and I immediately grasp the message. I need to calm myself and look more discerning and emotionless while watching him. I get it, I do, but seeing a simulation of something trying to kill him? I'm on fucking edge about it. 

"He looks good," Johanna says, and I quickly look towards my right and shoot her an appreciative smile before I turn my focus back to Peeta. "How'd it happen that you guys got two good looking and strong tributes this year?" She asks.

"Fuck if I know," I try to say a bit indifferently. "Maybe they decided 12 had enough bad luck." It's true, I think to myself. We had the most tragic of deaths in the games since my own. Our tributes fought so bravely despite knowing they would never make it out alive. Tears surprisingly come to my eyes, as I start to picture their faces in their final moments. I cough and stretch my shoulders trying to snap myself out of it. 

"Well I wish that 7 would get some good luck one of these years," she heaves dramatically. 

I can't pay her any attention because Peeta is back to fighting. My breath is stuck in my throat as I watch him dart one attack after another. He has lasted nearly an hour, and the simulation stops for time as opposed to a fatal attack. No one from twelve has done that since my games. Since myself. 

I look to Haymitch and he just nods silently, with a very pleased expression across his normally haggard face. I try not to smile, but one escapes me. I turn and look at all of the mentors who have been watching and I can see that they are impressed. It makes me both happy and nervous. You can never be content when you're a mentor. You must always expect the worst. 

 <><><><><><<><><><><<><><>><><><>

 

After the day had ended, we make our way back to our living quarters. The whole way back Haymitch and I talked strategies they should use when they are evaluated by the game makers. Peeta and Ellyn will meet us here later. I can't help but feel hopeful. Peeta is doing so well. I really think he is more than able to win and come home. I lay myself down on the couch as I listen to Haymitch putter around behind me splashing ice into his freshly poured drink. 

"I do not want to condone what is happening here, between Peeta and yourself," he starts, and I groan in anticipation. "But I promised I would help him with something tonight. So do me a fucking favor k? Go get freshened up, whaever the fuck that means, and go to Peeta's room in about an hour." 

"What?" I ask. Peeta hasn't even gotten back yet. 

"Just do it okay?" He says with extreme exasperation. "Don't draw this out into a thing with me, because I really don't want to be a part of it. But have you tried saying no to that boy? He is so sickeningly fucking invested in this."

I laugh against my better judgement, and the look Haymitch shoots me is so hateful that I jump off the couch and run to my room. I turn my shower on and get under the steamy hot water. I let myself luxuriate for a short time in the regality of it, and then scrub myself clean. I get out and wipe away the condensation on the mirror in front of me and just look at my reflection.

My skin is pink, and my hair is sopping over my shoulders. I look into my grey eyes and like so many times before, and I try to ignore that reflection that stares back. I will always hate mirrors. 

I shake my head of the intrusive thoughts and get back to getting ready for whatever it is I need to get ready for. I quickly dry my hair and let it hang loose, and put the slightest hint of makeup on my face. For some reason I have butterflies. This seems so silly, so ridiculous that I'm nervous for whatever this is going to be. I go into my closet and see the day attire that Cinna had picked out for me for our time here. I choose a pale orange sundress that clasps behind my neck, and hugs me close until it flays out at my hips. 

I sit quickly and try to calm my ever growing nerves. If Peeta wants to be some noble creature I'll let him, even if it confuses the shit out of me. I take a few deep breathes and remind myself of the good. I hadn't ever been a person who enjoyed physical touch. If anything I don't think I have any good association with human touch that wasn't directly linked to my father or Prim. I've avoided people at all costs. With Peeta.... it was so different. A touch from him was both exciting and calming. It didn't make sense, but I am realizing that it might not have to. 

I get up on my less than stable legs, and walk over to Peeta's. 

<><><><><><><><><><>

 Peeta opens the door to his room and there is a huge smile plastered across his face. Before I have time to match it, he pulls me into his room, slams his door shut, and whisks me around in a circle or two. He laughs at my happily confused expression, and sets me down. 

"Hello to you too," I say with a slight laugh to my voice. 

"Hello," he replies somewhat breathlessly, "You look beautiful. Orange is my favorite color. It suits you."

That's right, I had forgotten that. Well that worked out well! I smile as I look down to the ground somewhat embarrassed. I'd normally fight against reacting to any of this cutesy bullshit, but I really wanna try to indulge in this for Peeta..... for myself. I can do that... right?

"Thank you," I say softly. He looks amazing too. He is freshly showered and wearing a vibrant blue shirt and pale grey slacks. The blue of the shirt brings out the color of his eyes and I find myself staring into them. 

"Com'ere," He says and he takes my hands and brings me towards his windows. 

I smile widely as I see what he has prepared for us. Instead of the dinner with the others he has set it up for the two of us here. The small table is adorned with flowers and candles and our meals are ready for us. 

"Wow," I say. I can't help but laugh a bit, "Haymitch honestly helped you with this?" It seems too incredible to me to be true. 

"Aw, he told you that huh? Not gonna lie I was gonna take all the credit," he winks over at me, "but yea, Haymitch helped me with the flowers and such. Just said our suite needed fresh ones."

I laugh out loud at the sheer image of Haymitch asking for more flowers. Peeta guesses what I am laughing at and shrugs his shoulders as if to say 'who woulda thought?' I'm still laughing as I sit in the chair he has pulled out for me. The aroma of the flowers and candles has a very calming effect, and I make a note to thank Haymitch for it- he'll hate it. His windows are set to low light, so the faintest hint of the sunset gets through and the room stays relatively dim. Peeta sits across from me and holds up a glass filled with something pink and bubbly. I raise my glass as well.

"To you," he starts. "This is years too late Katniss, but I haven't looked forward to any evening in my life more than this one now."

He pulls his glass in to take a drink, and shakily I do the same. What do I say to something like that. I've never had anyone say something like that to me, and I KNOW no one has ever thought that highly of spending an evening with me. People are so on edge around me, and Peeta makes it seem like its some gift. 

We sit and we eat the meal before us, and I try my best to not give in to my instincts and just drink the alcohol and ignore the food. It's not too hard because the food isn't too rich. I bring some sort of roll to my face and inhale the scent. It actually smells like the bread we would all eat at the winter festival, and the bread used in toastings in twelve. It smells exactly like it actually. I open my eyes and look at Peeta questioningly.

"You noticed," he remarks. "I had hoped you would."

"Peeta how did you get this?" I ask. I can't imagine that it was sent it, it's too fresh.

"I made it," he replies and my look goes from questioning to incredulity. "Haymitch brought me to the kitchens early this morning. He was NOT happy about it," Peeta laughs, "but to his credit he kept his word and brought me down so I could make it for you."

"Oh my god," I say and a warm feeling comes over my entire body. "Peeta that's.... I can't believe... just, thank you," I end lamely but there is a smile on my face that apparently is all Peeta needed. "I used to try and sneak a loaf every winter festival."

"I remember," he says, and again I look at him in surprise. I shouldn't be surprised though. Everything I have learned from Peeta about our time in twelve has showed me how observant he was of me. So of course he knew I liked this bread. 

We keep eating and drinking, laughing about small silly things that would happen back home. We both try to keep the seriousness of our situation, of our world, at bay. We can have this one night to not dwell on it. We've earned it. 

After a long while, the conversation has died down and the candles are burning low. A certain heaviness is present in the air all of a sudden, and my heart rate picks up a bit in anticipation.

"I have something for you," he says softly.

"Something more?" I respond mutedly. "Peeta this is so more than enough."

"No," he shakes his head. "This is something that I hope you'll keep forever."

My mouth goes a bit dry, because there is such intensity to his voice. He stands and walks over to the small couch that is next to his bed and motions for me to join him. I stand and feel a bit light headed, but I'm not sure if it's nerves or what we've been drinking. I walk towards him and sink next to him on the lush sofa.

"I've been working on this since the train. I didn't know I'd get to a place where I felt like I could actually give it to you, but I... I know I can now." 

He reaches down and pulls what looks to be a small canvas from under his seat, and slowly hands it to me. Our fingers brush up against each other and it sends tingles up the rest of my arms. He just has that effect on me I guess. 

I turn the canvas over, and my breath is gone from me immediately. He's painted... well it's ... I can't believe it. There on the canvas is two people sitting on the branch of a large tree looking over the meadow of twelve. It's perfect. The colors show the meadow the way I always picture it. The two people in the tree are so clearly Peeta and I, but it's just our backs as we sit next to each other with his arm around my waist. You can almost feel the wind emanating from the painting that's causing the leaves and my hair to gently sway to the side. Tears come to my eyes as my fingers trace over the delicate brushstrokes. This was my dream. This is what I had so clearly envisioned while I was sleeping, and here Peeta has painted it so I can revisit it anytime I want. I won't have to chase that image in my subconscious mind. It's the most amazing thing I have ever gotten aside from the pin Madge had given me before my games. 

"Peeta," I can barely whisper. 

"I just had this image in my head. This picture of how I'd always wanted things to be," he says quietly as he scoots closer to my side. "Now, at least in this painting, it will always be this way, if... well," he trails off. 

I can't stop the few tears that cascade down my cheeks. I want this, my god I want this image to be real so badly.  Peeta gently takes my face in his hands and turns me towards him. For just a moment my gray eyes lock with his blue ones, but instead of wiping the tears away, he comes closer and leaves soft kisses down the trail they've left behind them. I close my eyes and lose myself in the feeling, this overwhelming feeling of someone wanting to take care of me. All my life no one had ever taken care of me, and here was this beautiful man helping me through this beautifully intense moment that he created for me. I'm overcome with this intense wanting. This need for him to be closer to me; closer in every way imagineable. 

I carefully put the painting down and turn my entire body towards him. I ignore any sense of humility I had, and immediately crawl into his lap. I just _have to be closer._ His arms wrap around my lower back as mine wrap around his shoulders. I pull him close and bring my lips to his while pushing my body against him. His lips work against mine and I hear a breathy moan escape his throat that causes a certain area of my body to catch fire with want. 

He open his mouth just slightly and I waste no time in taking my tongue and pushing it against his. He tastes so intoxicating. 

"Ugh," he gasps. "Shit Katniss," he breathes as he comes back in for the kiss that I will never stop chasing. 

After a few more heated moments, I register that I haven't really thanked him yet.

"Peeta," I say, and my voice doesn't sound even remotely like myself. "Thank you," I whisper, "Thank you, thank you, thank..." I cut myself off as I bring myself forward and lick and nibble at his ear. 

"Oh my God," he says hoarsely. "Please, uhh, please keep doing that." 

I do. I keep nibbling at his ear and down on his neck, while keeping my hands locked around him. Peeta's arms squeeze me close and keep my body pressed to his. I start rocking my hips down onto him, chasing friction I'm soon to be begging for. After a moment, I've decided I need more, and I don't want to wait for when Peeta has decided to drop the nobility game. I push off his shoulders, and stand before him. I feel powerful when I see his eyes are nearly glazed over with the same want that I'm feeling, and a second- stronger- wave of heat hits me when I see his hardness through his clothes.

I feel so bold, and not even my inner destructive dialogue could pull me out of this moment. Peeta's breathing becomes ragged as I reach behind me and undo the ties of my dress. I pull the straps down and with not even a hint of modesty I let the dress fall, slowly, down to my feet. I didn't wear anything underneath that dress, and as I stand here completely naked in front of this gorgeous man, I lose a bit of my bravado. 

My hands come up, with my fingers gently caressing my sides, as I try to cover some of what I've just unvieled. Peeta's mouth hangs open and he stands and comes towards me, with a look that seems almost pained with desire. 

"You're beautiful," he whispers as he stands mere inches from me. I look up at him and regain my confidence as I drop my hands back down to my sides. Revealing myself to him once more. "My fucking God Katniss," he can barely say, "You're perfect." He reaches out and his fingers run through a strand of my hair. I don't dare look anywhere but up at him, while his eyes roam across every inch of me. He steps in closer and his hands run down my shoulders before they're back up on my face, "You're so unbelievably perfect. Can I have you?"

"Yes," I rasp out as his body is so close now that my breasts are pushed up against his abs, "Please... please Peeta."

"Yea," he answers as his mouth attaches to mine again, but only briefly. He soon moves his lips to my neck, and my heads lolls back giving him all the access he could need. His hands run down my arms, and soon he is kissing my shoulders, and his lips travel down first my right arm, and then down my left; staying true to his word that he had wanted to get at every inch of me. He pulls his head back and his eyes lock with mine before he takes a breath and smiles softly.

He bends down and grazes his teeth against my collar bone, my skin responding with goose bumps from head to toe. He starts to descend, and soon he is nuzzling between my breasts and I'm just trying to keep from passing out. I close my eyes and enjoy the intense sensory input. I can feel his breath, so warm against my skin, and his fingers graze over the sides of my chest and I can't hold back the moan that comes from somewhere deep within. 

"Perfect, Katniss. So god damn perfect," Peeta says almost reverently. He drops to sitting back on the couch and pulls me in close. 

"Ohh my.... shit, Peeta," I growl out as he finally cups my breasts in his hands and starts to knead at them. I push my chest forward, practically sobbing for more intense contact as his fingers ghost over my nipples and my entire body shakes with need. 

"Fuck," he says roughly, and all bets are off as he closes his mouth over my tit and just starts licking and sucking like he may not ever get another chance. "Holy hell," he says as he pulls off after he hears me mewing in response, "Yea? You like it when I have my mouth on you like this?" He asks, and I sure as shit can't think of the right words answer. He latches back on, and I can barely stand it as he switches from one side to the other while never taking his hands off of them.

"Ugh, Peeta, please," I finally moan as he latches on to my other breast and gently bites down. I can feel myself dripping now and all I want is for him to take care of it for me. 

"Yea Katniss," he says apparently reading my mind. "I gotcha."

With that he stands quickly and in a second I'm in his arms as he is carrying me to the bed. I'm delirious at this point and my limbs feel like jello as he places me down gently. My arms go up over my head and I spread my legs wide, my eyes open as he kneels between them, and I look to him. His nostrils flare and his chest heaves while trying to catch his breath. His hands come to my knees and start to run up towards my hips while his eyes gaze over every last intimate detail of myself that I have to offer. 

"So wet," he says and I gasp as one of his hands cups me tightly between my legs. "So wet for me." He nearly sounds triumphant. 

He drops to his stomach and brings himself within a few inches of my clit, and I'm barely breathing. 

"Katniss sit up on your elbows," he says, and I immediately follow the direction. "Want you to watch," he continues, "I want you to watch me eat you, lick your clit. I want you to watch me take care of you."

 With that his head ducks down and I feel his tongue gently press against my clit.

"Oh shit," I cry and my head falls back because it just feels so, so unbelievably good.

"Watch," Peeta says quickly and I try to hold my head up straight.

He takes him time. He is licking and kissing all over me, and I spread my legs even wider. His tongue pushes into me and when he feels me shudder he goes hard at tongue fucking me. I'm in complete ecstasy as I watch his head move in and out while he makes these noises like a man thirsting for something he has been denied all his life. 

"Taste so good," he mumbles.

I shift my weight into one arm and my free hand goes to pull his head closer into me. I feel so wanton, but so free at the same time. So vulnerable, but so safe. 

"Mmmm," he moans, and his eyes look up at me as he closes his lips around my clit and starts to gently suck and pull at it.

"Fuu-uu-ck," I manage to choke out. "Ugh.. you're fucking tongue." 

He doesn't let up and presses his tongue against me making small circles that practically force me to grind my hips down onto his mouth. 

"Nnmm, yea?" He pulls off for a moment. "Let go Katniss. Let me get you there." He takes two of his fingers and I feel them pressing slowly at my entrance. I don't feel nervous or anxious at all, I just want him inside me. He pushes them in and I cant for the life of me hold myself up any longer as I fall back on the bed and arch my back in complete bliss and submission. I completely let go as I enjoy feeling Peeta's fingers fuck in and out of me, deep and slow. He keeps twisting his wrist and it just feels so fucking good, I can't help but wish I could go back in time and do this with Peeta for the years we've missed. A few moments later and I feel that electric build and I know I have only moments before Peeta pulls me over the edge.

"Pe-peeta, oh my go... ugh I'm gonna come," I can barely get the words out as my entire body contracts and I scream out at the immense release. "Ahh, Fuck... holy fuck!" 

Peeta doesn't pull off of me right away but the feeling is too strong and I nearly kick him off. He chuckles and sits up, and I feel I might come again when I watch him lick his lips slowly. 

I immediately notice that he is still clothed, but undeniably hard. I need to fix that.

"Get naked," I say and barely recognize my own voice. 

Peeta smiles slyly at me, and slowly raises himself off the bed. He couldn't be more seductive if he fucking tried. 

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, and I smile back at him. 

He lazily takes off his clothes, clearly enjoying my undivided attention. My mouth actually fucking waters as I see his body fully for the first time. His chest is so broad and strong, and he has firm abs that are defined all the way down to his narrow hips. His thighs are so filled out but there's hardly any fat on him. 

My eyes stop and stay focused on his cock when I see his hand move to grab it and stroke it a few times. I bite my lip as my head lolls to the side as I take it in. It's so thick. Long, but not scarily so, and just so so thick. It doesn't taper to the head at all, and he is leaking all over his hand. 

"You're just as hard for me as I was wet for you," I say brazzenly. Seriously I don't even know who I am right now.  

"You have no idea," he answers with a smile and a shake of his head. I giggle at the insinuation. 

He is right at the edge of the bed as he reaches for my hand. I let him guide me as he wraps my hand around his cock and, without letting go, he uses both of our hands to continue to stroke it. 

He is so hard, though the skin on top is velvet. I can feel the energy running through it, and I feel the blush rising in my cheeks because I can't take my eyes off of it. A small clear drop lazily falls onto our hands, and Peeta shudders.

"Nngh, god Katniss.... I've wanted you to touch me like this ever since I found out I could touch it like this," he half jokes through his heavily lidded eyes. 

I laugh. He has this way of making me comfortable in any and every way. This all feels so right... so easy. I take my hand away, and Peeta whimpers like a puppy. I reach for him, and he catches on. He gets back on the bed, putting both of his hands up by my head, and his legs rest between mine. His dick is pushed against me, and I get goosebumps. He is all encompassing now. I feel small beneath him as he hovers over me, and I run my hands up over his chest and shoulders, getting to know every muscle and every ridge of his body. 

He brings his face down and our lips lock together again, but they're soft. We both know what's coming and I dont think either of us want to rush it because the end just comes faster. I keep my hands on him at all times, running over his back now, and then return to his hair, and then cup his cheeks. I bite on his lower lip and he hisses at me and the wetness between my thighs intensifies. 

He reaches down, without taking his eyes off of mine for even a moment, and lines himself up against me. I take a shallow breath and grind my hips down against it, but no matter how I move, Peeta has me pinned in a way I cant get him inside me. I whine almost pathetically. 

"Peeta, ugh please, I swear if you say something like 'let's pick this up tomorrow' I'll kill you," I warn. 

Peeta just smirks at me and pushes forward, but it's still just pressuring my entrance. He's teasing me.

"Peeta!" I moan.

"Yea? Whaddya want Katniss huh?" He says seductively, and I see he is enjoying his torment of me. "You want my dick in you? Want me fucking inside you?"

Holy shit, I could come just from hearing that. He is playing unfair because when he is like this I think I would beg him to do anything and everything he wanted. 

"Yesss, please.." I groan. "I want that so bad... and right now, by the way." I can't help my snark. It just comes so natural. 

"Yea?" He smiles, and he slowly starts to push himself in. 

"Ahh," I moan out. He is so big, and he is taking his time. I reach and grab around his hips and pull him into me quickly because I'm so desperate to be filled by him.

"Oh... oh shit," he says. "Oh my god," he laughs, "impatient much?"

"Very," I answer matter of factly. I start moving my hips and feeling his dick hit and rub over every inch inside of me that he can. 

"Shit," we both say in unison. It's too good.... too fucking good. 

"God damnit Katniss, ugh, you feel so fucking good. Keep moving like that."

I am breathless because he looks so blissfully fucked out with his hair and chest dampened with sweat, and his cheeks tinged pink. His eyes are half closed, but I don't think he could focus on anything if he tried. I want to get him to where he took me. I grab his neck and pull him to the side and he falls onto the bed with a small exclamation of surprise. in sheer seconds I have him on his back, and I'm straddled over him grabbing onto his dick as I lower myself down onto it.

"Fucking.... fucking shit! Yea? You gonna ride me?" He says as he pulls himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. 

"Mm hmm, you want me to?"

"Yes... oh my god yes."

I slowly lift myself up, and as I lower myself down Peeta grabs the back of my neck and pulls me roughly into a soul shattering kiss and he can't stop himself from making the noises that are emanating from somewhere deep. I am on fire for this, being filled by him, and I rise again and come down even harder. I start rocking my hips and Peeta takes his hands on my ass an starts lifting me and dropping me down onto his hard cock, and I'm losing any mental control I had because I'm craving more! 

He keeps manipulating my hips and he thrusts up into me hard and then harder. 

"Uhh, my... yes, Peeta keep fucking me,"

"Yea? Yea, you feel me Katniss? Tell me," he can barely whisper out. 

"I feel all of you, so deep, fuck you're so fucking deep. Want this... ugh always want this."

"Shit," Peeta groans and his pace quickens even more and the room echoes with his thrusts and my uncontrollable panting. "God Katniss, always.... fucking always wanted this.... wanted you." 

He leans in and again wraps his lips around the harden nipple of my breast and just sucks. I'm overwhelmed but the intense sensations that cover the entirety of my body.

"Peeta, I'm... I'm gonna come again," I gasp, grinding my hips down harder with each one of his thrusts. 

He licks his thumb and brings it down on my clit, "Ahh!" I can't help but scream out.

"Yea..... ugh yea Katniss, I'm gonna come too... oh my god.... where?"

"In me! Please fucking come in me...." I'm practically jelly now with his ministrations. "Fuck Peeta... I'm coming..." and I do. My entire body convulses and shakes and I hold him tight to me as I hear him shiver and shout out as he empties into me. I collapse against him after a few minutes of riding the after shocks and I still don't have my breath. I'm as blissed out as I have ever been, and I desperately want to luxuriate in it. 

A few moments later and Peeta pulls me to the side so I'm laying next to him and I can feel him pull out of me. I'm shocked by the sadness and emptiness I feel when he does. He pulls me so there isn't an area of us that isn't pressed up against each other, and his cheek is resting on the top of my head. 

"I love you," he whispers. A few tears fall down my cheeks. "I'll always love you."

I move myself so I can look in his eyes. I need him to believe with all his heart the thing I'm about to say. The thing that I never ever say. 

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the wait!
> 
> Everyone out there still good with this??


	8. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flame ignited and desperate to stay alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me. I dont try to leave my readers dry like that. I just wanna do everything justice. Forgive me???

I hear the soft bells that let all tributes know it's time for the day to begin. The echo rings throughout the tower, the tone bordering on unpleasant, especially when remembering the reasons you were being awakened for.  I'm normally up before they go off, so I feel a bit confused as I awaken to them now. When I first came to the Capitol, I remember thinking the sound was similar to the bells used to signal the end of the shifts at the mines. I can almost see the weary men walking hunched over, covered in black dust, walking slowly to the sound of them. Now, as I lay here and listen to them, I briefly close my eyes and will my woefully underused imagination to bring me back to twelve- back home. It doesn't work. Even when I _am_ in twelve my mind, tormentedly, always returns to the games. 'Home' is a word long unrecognized. I shift slightly and I feel Peeta here beside me, radiating a comforting warmth. I sit up gently and peek over at him. His face is so peaceful. I wonder if he sleeps like this every night. I hope he does. 

I blink a few times and move the tangled mess of hair out of my face before I try to focus on the situation at hand. I slept so incredibly well. I can't remember the last time I didn't awaken by nightmares. Most are so terrifying that I can never go back to sleep afterwards, so instead of hoping for a good nights rest I just pray the nightmare will attack later than usual. 

The room is so quiet, and his windows have reset from entirely opaque, to letting the early light of dawn penetrate the deep gray shadows. I watch in muted interest as the beams of soft yellow and orange overtake the darkness of the room. It must be a substantial amount of time, but I continue to watch until the battle is lost, and all that remains of the dark are the shadows that cower in the corners. I sigh gently and shake my head. If only all wars ended with evil retreating into most isolated, desolate areas of the world. I resume looking around the room and I see the table we ate at the night before shows the candles, scented so sweetly the night before, have burned all the way down; the Capitol enhanced flowers looking ever beautiful, are undisturbed. I dont see the allure of these mutated plants. Back in 12, part of the beauty of the meadow was that you knew it didn't last forever. Eventually it would all die out, and you had to wait for the rebirth of spring to see its majesty again.

At the base of the vases that hold these Capitol creations, I see the remnants of the bread Peeta had made on the table. I fold my arms and rest my head in my hands as I reminisce over the night. I admit freely my heart stopped a bit when I had first seen the bread, as I wasn't entirely sure what it implied. I also freely admit that I was slightly disappointed when it didn't turn out to imply what I was scared it did imply. I smile to myself, just a bit, as I remember vowing that I would never eat the bread in any sort of ceremony if it involved me, and here I am pouting over it. Things change, I suppose. I just never thought I would be one of those things. 

I look to Peeta. He hasn't moved, even with the bells. I watch as the expanse of his chest moves with his steady breathing. It seems to be a constant with Peeta, being _steady._  Through all of this I have never seen him rattled. He has maintained his composure throughout it all. I remember people saying the same about me, but I did it in a very unappealing way, or at least I thought so. I was cold, distant, and selfish. Peeta is none of those things. I watch him, knowing I'll have to disturb his peace soon enough, and take a mental picture of the man I barely knew just a few days ago. What I've learned about him is that he is who I always imagined he would be. A savior of sorts who never viewed himself as such, but is nonetheless. I smile as I see his nose crinkle up as though it itches. Even _that_ seems too pure to actually be. 

It's a revelation, how comfortable I feel after what happened between us last night. Ive never been so uninihibited. There were such dark times, that I was sure I'd never open myself up to potential loss again. I felt so safe though.... so warm. To my own mind it sounds dumb as shit, but I really felt deep in my bones that what happened was somehow long overdue; it was always meant to occur, we just missed the target date by a few years or so. Trepidation and panic should be the only natural instincts I allow myself to indulge here and now, but they are not coming to pass. I feel the unfamiliar sensation of peace. I wonder to myself if this is how people survived in 12. I remember people being married.... seeming happy. I remember my mother and her devastation at the loss of my father. Maybe I'm beginning to understand. 

I look towards the windows as they become fully clear. I can hear the Capitol music outside and any happiness has vanished as I can feel the blood drain from my face. I stand and walk towards the glass and watch as the capitolites start their day. My lips tighten into a straight line and my shoulders, always burdened with more than my fair share of worry and grief, rise up with tension. _These people._ I loathe these people. They go about their day, buying their breakfast pastries, laughing with friends, enjoying the music echoing through the city. They know they have a bed to sleep in at night. They know their life isn't at risk to be lost at the hands of monstrous things normally reserved for ones worst nightmares. They know they won't ever have struggle. One thing they dont know?? They don't know that one person they will be cheering to their death is a man who so deserves his life.

I have to make them see it. I'm responsible for making them know it.  

Three days. That's all I have left. Three days to change the presumed unchangeable. Three days. 

I feel hands close on my shoulders, and to my surprise I relax into them. I know Peeta is with me. He brings his head to my neck, and I lean mine to the side to give him better access. I close my eyes as I feel the softness and fullness of his lips make contact with my skin. Immediately the hair on my arms spring up and chills run up my spine as he moves his way up towards the back of my ear. 

"Good morning," he whispers. 

"Good Morning," I say unable to keep the small smile from gracing my lips. "Peeta, we have so much to do these next few days...."

"Shhhh," he stops me to my annoyance. He never EVER seems to want to have these conversations. "I know Katniss, I do." He wraps his arms around me and it hurts my heart by how good it feels. "I'm ready. What do you need me to do?"

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

 

 "Katniss Everdeen!" Caesar exclaims, with his heavy handed vivaciousness. "To what do I owe the extreme pleasure?"

I swallow the snippy comment I always seem to have on hand when talking to Caesar, and get straight to the point. "Every year, before the rankings are read, you hold a preview show where you do a small rundown of the tributes."

"Yes," Caesar says suspiciously. He knows me well after all these years. 

"And every year you have an old Victor to rehash old times with, correct?"

"Correeeect," he replies drawn out, and I hear the question in his voice before he asks it. "Katniss what is it that you are wanting?"

"How would you feel about having three Victors this year who are also mentors? Myself included?"

It takes a moment before Caesar can compose himself to formulate a response, and I can almost see how high the arch of his bright purple eyebrows have reached on his stretched much too thin forehead.  Ugh, revolting. 

"Whom, may I ask, would be accompanying you," he asks. I can hear his attempt to restrain the excitement in his voice. 

"Myself, Johanna Mason, and Finnick Odair."

Complete silence for at least a full minute.

"You must be joking? Johanna and yourself have NEVER consented to non mandated interviews once the games have started, and Finnick has been the Capitol darling since forever!"

I let him spout off for a few minutes about the luck he has fallen into and how he will need to start advertising this as soon as he possibly can, but I sit up a bit straighter as he tapers off and I hear him almost laughing to himself. 

"What," I ask, "what are you laughing at?"

"What is the catch Girl on Fire? What is it that you want out of this? I am not a fool."

"Nothing except the chance all mentors are going for. We are looking for sponsors. Our districts have some good tributes this year. We just need to be seen a bit more than usual." I can only hope that Caesar has not seen the tributes from 7 yet or he will know I am at least partially full of shit. 

A few seconds pass until Caesar seems satisfied with my answer, and he agrees. We hash out the rest of the details and I agree to have the three of us there by 4 o'clock. I end the connection and rub circles into my temples while doing breathing exercises that I've long neglected.

"Why not just you?" I hear behind me and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"FUCK! Goddamn it Haymitch!" I put my hands on my knees and drop my head as I try to catch my breath again. Seriously what is happening to me! I've never let people get the jump on me, but this is the third time in three days that I have not noticed someone close by and been startled by them. Not a good thing at all.   "What the ever loving FUCK are you doing in here?"

Haymitch saunters over and takes a swig from his flask that never runs dry. "Trying to save you from yourself perhaps," he muses as he plops down on the couch in my quarters. "I'll ask again. Why the three of you."

I glare at him as he puts his bare feet up on my table. His feet are disgusting, dirty old man. "Having only myself in an aired special is a red flag to Snow that I'm too personally invested. It's out of character for me. Having it be three of us, especially with Johanna who is even more of a recluse than me, makes the intent more confusing. I do Peeta more justice by getting him more attention, but protect him by not alerting Snow as to how important he is to me." I deadpan. I'm trying to not leave anything to chance. 

Haymitch nods his head while swigging another large gulp of white liquor down. He looks as though he could be drinking water. "That's impressive. Good plan sweetheart." He gets up to leave. Once he gets to the door, he stops and turns back, a huge smile splayed across his face. "Have you asked Johanna to do this yet?"

All I can do is look at him and shrug my shoulders. "I'm making this up as I go along Haymitch...."

"Ha! Oh shit.... hahaha..." he laughs as he finally leaves.

"Ughhhh," I moan and fall back onto my bed. Johanna. This is NOT going to be an easy sell. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

 I let the hot water practically scald me as I wash my hair. Anything to keep me fully here and in the moment. In an hour our tributes will go to be evaluated, and I will go to Caesars show. After that, it's back to Cinna who will get me ready for yet another gala. All I want to do is crawl under my blankets with Peeta and never come out again. A pang of anxiety courses through me as I also realize that I decided the best way to get Johanna to the set was to tell her while we are on the way there. I'm 100 percent sure it will not go well, but I am also one hundred percent sure she wouldn't even go if I told her before getting her into the transport. Finnick said he would do it, but wanted a better explanation afterwards. 

After I get dressed, I go out to the dining room and wait for Cinna's team to come and do my make up for the show. I know he was just as shocked as anyone would be when I told him what I needed the extra prep for. I slow down as I see Peeta there, but he is not alone, and he does not look okay.

He is sitting at the table, but instead of the strong and confident man I've seen all of the time we have been here, he is slouched over and his head is in his hands. For the first time, he looks tired- defeated. Next to him Ellyn is pacing back and forth and she seems to have a lot to say.

"Please Peeta, you just need to let me know!! You said you would help me! Is that still true!"

"Ellyn," Peeta barely whispers, "yes, yes of course I will. We are partners in this. It's just that I... I want to live too. Please..."

My heart swells to hear Peeta say this, to hear him say this out loud to people other than me. If I could I'd rush to him right now. Conversely, I have to hold myself back from Ellyn. Is she arguing with him because he is now reluctant to die for her? 

"What's going on?" I say when I finally approach.

"Nothing, really," Peeta tried to deflect. "I think we are just a bit nervous and on edge with the Games so close now."

"Uh-huh," I say clearly unconvinced. "Ellyn what's wrong with you? This isn't the time to lose your head." 

I'm surprised and almost taken aback by the ferocity in how she stares at me. She has _always_ been a force of nature, and Haymitch was right to think she would be a worthy tribute in any other situation. She will not let anyone just take her life; they will have to fight her for it. 

"Ellyn," I urge her to respond.

" _Katniss,"_ she says almost mockingly, and I can't help my amusement. She is so much like me. "I'm trying to figure out how you can feel okay with yourself sometimes," she finishes, and my amusement turns to annoyance.

"Yeaaaaaa," I drawl out. "Well I do my best." I see her anger flare up. I dont know why I'm being so antagonistic towards her. It's childish. Peeta promised to try to win, but I also promised to not completely abandon Ellyn in the arena either. I look to him now and I see my response to her has drained even more energy from him. I can't have that. I breathe out deeply and try to compose myself. "Ellyn, this is when most tributes start to really let their nerves get the better of them. Please, _please_ don't let that happen to you. I get it, I do. The games are so close you can taste it now. Everything you do, you wonder if it will be the last time that you do it," I pause as I see her wipe a few tears away. I do feel for her. This is the worst kind of torture. "You are strong," I continue, "We have had sponsors inquire about you. That's a good sign. Don't give up."

She looks at me curiously, clearly wondering if she wants to believe any of the words I have spoken to her. "Will you help me in the arena?" She asks. 

She looks at me so intensely, and I see the unspoken knowledge in her large diamond eyes. She knows. 

"Yes." I say.

"If it comes down to me or Peeta?" She asks, and I roll my eyes. Don't ask questions you don't want the real answers to!

"If it comes down to me or you Ellyn," Peeta suddenly stands an chimes in, "then its up to me and you. Katniss and Haymitch can't do anything more at that point. We are partners in this. We will NOT kill each other. They work for us, but the Capitol works against us, and anything they do isn't Katniss or Hamitch's fault. Got it? We got to help ourselves too. It's what we are training for. It's what we've watched happen year after year since we were kids. I will help you, and you will help me. I won't turn my back on you. But I need to ask now, will you turn your back on me?" 

I look to Peeta and am captivated by him in a new way. He has always seemed so compliant, so willing to follow someone else's lead. Right now, however, he has shown he can take charge in the most insane on times. He is full of surprises, and just might be the most complete human to ever walk the face of the Earth. 

Ellyn looks at him and tears fall down her beautiful face and she shrugs her shoulder at him. "Of course I won't Peeta," she whispers. "Of course I wont." She walks into his outstretched arms and he embraces her as she cries freely. I slowly back away and quickly duck into the kitchen and try to compose myself.

I'm so proud of Peeta. He is doing exactly what he needs to be doing as a Tribute and a partner. There is no better attitude than the one he has. I'm equally happy to see Ellyn admit she has Peeta's back. They need to support each other or it won't work. My mind starts to wander and I go back to my games. I go back to when it was me and my partner trying to survive at all costs. How he looked out for me. How I looked out for him. 

I remember that bond. I remember Konrad and how we went into our games together, and because I remember that, I remember his death. It was cruel, grisly, and shocking. I wasn't prepared for it. Pictures start to form in my mind against my will, and try as I might I start to descend into the dark pit of panic where I know the depths are so deep they leave no way of climbing out again. 

His face.... I can see his face. He looks at me with such fear, not knowing what was happening to his body. He looks to me to help him, as I promised I would, and I'm sure he wonders why after a while I just fall to my knees and cry for him. I knew he was lost- he hadn't realized yet. There was nothing I could do. The mutt overtook him. It was so slow. I didn't leave him. He screamed... cried. Finally begged me to end it for him. I did. 

"Hay..... Haymitch!" I try to call out. I'm shaking. I know I need my own mentor to help me come out of this. "Pl-please.... shit.... HAYMITCH!" 

Peeta and Ellyn of course show up first and see me laying on my back trying to breathe. I can't seem to get any air. It hurts.... it hurts so badly. _It will pass!_  I try to remind myself- this doesn't last forever. 

"Oh my... Katniss.." Peeta worries. "Katniss, what's wrong?"

"Peeta, I'm sorry... I'm sorry." I can't help but cry as the tears drop straight from my eyes down into my hair. "Konrad... I just... can't stop seeing..... too young... too awful..... c-couldn't save him." 

"Peeta, go get Haymitch," Ellyn says calmly.

"But.."

"GO!"

Peeta runs out of the room and Ellyn sits next to me. Shit, I think to myself. She may try to kill me. 

"Fi... I'm fine." I manage to croak out. I take my hands and push them into my chest, trying to steady my breathing. 

To my surprise, Ellyn takes my hand in hers. "You will be." She reaches out and moves my hair from my face and I feel the cool air against my skin which helps to calm me. "I had these all the time. Trauma does that to you." 

I look at her, and focusing on her words help me to not focus on my own terror. _There are more ways to suffer than being hungry._ I remember her saying that to me. What had happened to her? Why does she know what a panic attack is and how to deal with it? She is still only 18. My breathing starts to even out, but I still feel ungodly shaky. 

"I'm sorry if what I said to you brought you to this. I should know better." She says softly. "I remember what you did for Konrad. You did everything you could."

Haymitch and Peeta run in, and I gotta appreciate how Haymitch doesn't look fazed in any way. It makes me feel like this is just some silly happening and not some crazy event. "Katniss, sweetheart I'm here. c'mon girly lemme get yah to your room. Your team is here anyway," he says as he helps me from the floor. 

I look at Ellyn as she leaves, her eyes lock with mine briefly one more time, she nods, and then she leaves. I'm left with more questions than before. 

Peeta wraps his arm around my waist, "Are you okay?" He barely whispers.

I shake my head out of my own thoughts. It's been a while since I had thought about Konrad like that. I need to contact his family soon. It's been a long time. I look up into Peeta's beautiful eyes and see the concern and love permeating through them. "I'm okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Ever. Don't be sorry," he says again as he and my old mentor help me to my room. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><<><><><><><<>

 

A few hours later and I'm all dolled up for the show and Ellyn and Peeta are ready for their evals. Peeta comes to my room before I can leave it. My team had just left so it's just us, for however briefly it may be.

"How're you feeling," he asks. 

I'm embarrassed. I don't really know what to say about what everyone witnessed from me today. I'm supposed to be this strong mentor, guiding these people through an impossible situation. I'm not supposed to be fucking hyperventilating on my back while crying. Ugh, just the thought of it makes me roll my eyes in disgust.

"Don't do that," Peeta says softly, ever observant. "I'm just so sorry you've had to go through things that have brought you to that."

I feel myself close off to him. I hate that I'm doing it, but its a tried and true defense of mine that I will need in order to get through tonight. I'm already weakened by the earlier events. I need to be resolved to not let that happen again. 

"I'm okay," I say robotically as I look to him. "I am. Are you ready? Remember show off your strength, your ability to hit targets, and your camouflage crap."

Peeta laugh, "Camoflage crap?"

I smile, I can't help it. "You know what I mean."

"I do," he says, and he walks closer and pulls me into him. He lowers himself and places a gentle kiss against my lips, and instantaneously I feel butterflies and light headed.

"Damnit Peeta, I need to stay focused tonight." I exclaim to him, but he seems thouroughly amused.

"I like that I can distract you," he says boyishly playful with a large smile.

"I've noticed," I scowl, Peeta laughs. 

"Please, no jokes, show them that you are the Tribute with the best odds to win it, and I'll tell the world myself tonight," I say with all of the seriousness I can muster. 

"I promise," he whispers as he comes in for another kiss. "Can I stay with you tonight?" He almost growls the question and I immediately go weak in the knees. It's just so.... ughhhhh...

"Always."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 

 

The vehicle has picked us up and is driving us to the studio. It's been silent so far. I know that i have a few moments before I let the bomb drop to Johanna..... who has not taken her eyes off of me since we have gotten into the car. 

"Soooooo," Finnick starts, with his wickedly charismatic smile adorning his sun kissed face. "Katniss? Wanna clue us in a bit more here?"

I look up at them. Here we go.

"Alright, so we are gonna be on Caesar's show tonight. He is going to talk about the tributes from each district, ask about ours specifically, and.." I hesitate, not wanting to disclose this last bit of information, "he will ask us about our own games."

Silence. I look between the two of them as the information processes. They knew it was Games related so they can't be too surprised that it's not something they are going to enjoy. My eyes settle on my fellow female Victor's face, and I think she may have actually caused the thunder I hear in the deep gray sky.

"You bitch," Johanna murmurs her eyes fixated on the floor. "You stupid bitch, you knew I would never agree to that."

I continue to look at her, and I don't know what to say. She is absolutely right. This is a massive betrayal on my part. Johanna has never talked about her games to anyone even privately, let alone publicly.  She wouldn't do this to me, and I hate that I'm doing it to her, but I have no other choices than the ones I'm making. 

"I know," I say sadly. "I won't ask for you to ever forgive me for it."

"Then WHY!" She yells, and Finnick drops his gaze, not quite sure whether he should interject or not. "Why the fuck should I go through with this for you? What's keeping me from hopping into a transporter and going straight back to the towers after we get dropped off?"

It's time for full disclosure. I can't ask her to do this without telling her the truth. I knew I would have to the moment I called Caesar and asked to be on this fucking show. 

"I need to bring my Tribute home this year. If I did this by myself, Snow would know how important he was to me, and he would make sure he blew up right off the podium. I needed you two to do this with me so it seems more inconspicuous."

"He?" She asks, as her eyes narrow. "The boy? Why him?"

I take a deep breath, "because I love him?" My voice betrays me and it wavers and beaks. "Because He has saved my life before, and I need to save his now."

Finnick looks up at me as if there is nothing worse that I could have said. "Katniss," he breathes. "Katniss, no..."

"What!?" I cry out as I throw my hands up in the air. I can get petulant when I get frustrated. "You think I'm happy that this is where I'm at right now? That I have to ask you this? That he was ever reaped to begin with when he should have been fucking safe from this shit years ago!!!" I look at both of them. Johanna looks absolutely confused, like she can't possibly comprehend the stupidity she is hearing. Finnick acts like he is reliving a memory he would rather not. 

"Are you the dumbest person on the planet? Katniss they kill everyone you love. That's what Snow does! HE wont be ANY different! He WILL die BECAUSE you love him!!!!" Johanna is practically out of her seat and only mere inches from my face, but I don't recoil. I will let her scream, curse, or hit me if she wants to. I'm not backing down. 

"And what of our tributes huh?" She says mockingly. "I suppose we aren't supposed to care that you are asking us, for all intents and purposes, to let them die so we can bring loverboy back to you? Not to mention I have spent the past near decade trying to never talk about my games. Ugh you stupid bitch!!! Why do you deserve this from us!!"

"I DON'T!!!!" I scream loudly, and both Finnick and Johanna seem a bit taken back. "I know I don't! Johanna, listen this isn't about brining him back to me, if you want to you can fucking kill me yourself after these games are over _I don't fucking care!!!!!!_ He just can't die! All I'm trying to tell you is that he is someone who needs to live because he deserves to live more than anyone... that's why I love him." I sit back and take a few breaths. "What do you want? What can I give you to convince you? Anything I have left to give, I'll give it! Anything else I can do, I'll do it! I was willing to do anything to make sure Peeta comes home- it was you two that stopped me remember! You think I want to talk about my games either? I hate it! There is nothing that will make what I'm asking you to do fair or okay. I don't want you to give up on your Tributes, fight for them! Just please do this so Snow won't ask why I'm going so far for mine."

I take a few precious moments for air, "I am done with this!!! My Tributes have died in the _worst_ ways since I won my Games. Have you ever had a twelve year old eaten alive by a mutt over the course of two days Johanna? Or Finnick, how about a little 13 year old girl who had her legs blown off and then semi cauterized just so she could barely not bleed to death just to starve to death while crying for her mother? Our districts have NEVER been given even a fair shot of a non horrifying death, let alone a chance at life! And now he is here! And he shouldn't be, and I will do whatever it takes because everything and anything I know about this fucked up pathetic world it's that Peeta is the only good thing in it!"

I'm spent. I don't know how I am going to get through this. This night is only just beginning and I have nothing left to give. If Johanna and Finnick don't do this, I'm not sure how I can stay off Snow's radar. I don't even want to think of what he would have Marchant do to Peeta if he ever suspected....

"Katniss," Finnick starts, and he surprisingly switches seats and wraps me up in his arms. "Baby girl, I understand. More than you know. I'm here, I'll do it." 

I look up at him and mouth a silent thank you. His heart is much too good after all that's been done to eradicate it. I lean into his hug and try to calm my body more. 

It takes Johanna a few more minutes to speak, but I don't say anything else to her. What more is there to say?

"This won't end the way you want it to," she starts. I nod, she is probably right, but I can't think that way. "You owe me a lot for this Katniss. I don't want to see or hear from you for a long, LONG ass time after this." Again, all I can do is nod.

"Also, I want Cinna to be my stylist from now on," she says smugly, but I see a small smile on her face. 

"Done," I say, as I return the smile graciously. She laughs and rubs her eyes.

"Ughhhh," she groans. "You're a fucking idiot."

"I know."

A few minutes pass and we finally get to studio. As the car stops I look to both of my friends and smile sadly at them, "Thank you."

"You've got it," Finnick rubs my shoulders. 

"Ugh fuck," Johanna whispers. "Love's weird."

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

"Good afternoon to all of beautiful Panem! We are only moments away from finally getting the training scores of this years Hunger Games Tributes!!!!" 

I bite the inside of my mouth until the taste of metal floods my senses. Finnick and Johanna are at my side backstage and both are tense. I feel awful, having them do this- asking them to answer the questions of this exuberant enabler, but I'm so relived that they relented to stand by me.  

"Now, now, I.. have... an.. enormous.. surprise.. for you here today," Caesar says in his horrible showman voice, halting between words as if it creates some tension. "Never before has any show in the history of Panem been able to provide its lovely viewers with what I am able to provide you with at this very moment."

The crowd is eating this up as it dissolves into muted rumblings about what Caesar could possibly mean. Johanna hits me over the head. "I know," I say, "I know." This is the worst.

"To all of you here," Caesar says motioning to his audience, "and to all of you far far away in the lovely districts of this great nation," he continues looking directly into the camera with his cheese eating grin I'd like to shoot off his face. "Please, please... help me in welcoming Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, and Katniss Everdeen!!! LET'S HEAR IT!!!"

The people are screaming our names as they rise to their feet, openly shocked that the three of us are here. We walk out and wave as we approach Caesar and the couch he has set up across from his seat. I told him ahead of time that I would rather eat rat ass then shake his hand or kiss him as we entered, he only laughed as he conceded that we could skip those false pleasantries. 

Finally the crowd dies down and the interview begins, but not before Johanna kicks me in my shin. Ohhhh it hurts, but I don't say anything and just turn to her and smile. She smiles back, but hers looks much more genuine. She is making me pay for this. 

Caesar turns his focus to his cameraman, "Now before the games start, as is the usual every year, our Tributes receive their training scores. These, as you know, are very important in their quest to obtain sponsors." He changes positions and looks towards a camera at the other side of the set, "Sponsors are so very crucial to a Tribute, because more often than not, it will be impossible to win without their money, gifts, and general support. Today we have three people who have very different experiences with sponsors. Finnick might I start with you?"

"Ah, of course Caesar," Finnick answers with his Capitol ready face. Just that standard answer and the crowd is already fawning. 

"You of the three here, had the most sponsors. How, my dear lad, did you acquire them?" 

I feel Johanna stiffen beside me. I understand. The way Caesar asked that question.... the tone of his voice.... it heavily implied rumors about Finnick that have been long told and always untrue. Finnick seems unfazed.

"My mentor Mags, is a remarkable woman. I worked hard, got a very good training score, and lucky for me the people of Panem decided they liked me enough to throw their support behind me, and Mags did the rest. That's all there is to it. A mentor knows when they have a winner. I believe that's why we are here today." 

"I see," Caesar says a tad flat. I'm sure he was looking to get under Finnick's skin more than that. 

"Johanna, conversely you had no sponsors. You are the only winner in the past 15 years that did not receive one gift whilst in the arena. How did you manage it, and why did people not support you?" 

Johanna takes a measured breath, "Caesar I didn't receive any gifts you're right. I didn't try to obtain them. I didn't then, and haven't since, ever played up to anyone to get them to like me. In fact didn't you yourself once say I was the most unlikable  person you've ever met?" She has a slight hint of sarcasm to her voice, just enough to ease the tension and everyone laughs. 

"You're right! Hahahaha! Dear lady, you are right. I would say I am sorry, but I do believe you'd then call me a liar?"

"You know I would," she deadpans to more laughter from the audience. 

"It is why I was so intrigued to have you as a guest tonight however. You never seem to give interviews. So, why may I ask, now, did you relent?"

"I.." Johanna falters, "I uh, huh... Ya know Caesar? I'm tired of the career Tributes receiving most of the sponsor support. I think this year some of the outlier districts have a real shot. I think the people of Panem should root for someone off the beaten path. They won't be disappointed." 

I look at her and can only hope she feels my immense gratitude. It was perfect. 

"In your games, when help never came, did you ever feel like you would never make it home?"

"Every Tribute feels that way," Johanna states bitingly, all joking aside. 

"Of course, of course," Caesar capitulates, "but certainly for you, it must have seemed more inescapable that you would never leave that arena. You had been without food and water for quite some time. Take us back, take us to your games." 

 

This goes on for a while, back and forth, back and forth. Invasive questions that none of us would answer on even our best days are being heaved upon us, but I truly think we are doing relatively well at answering them without acting enraged by them. We do, after all, need the audience to support out cause. 

"Katniss, do you share that sentiment?" Caesar turns to me after Finick again states that our tributes are good options this year, and I offer him as warm of a smile as I can conjur.  

"Yes, I absolutely do. If you remember my Tributes were the talk of the night after the Tribute Parade, and both are doing well in training. Either one would make Panem proud to call them Victor. In fact, I believe Peeta was even ranked as one of the strongest men the games has ever seen. Is that correct Caesar?"

"It is, in fact, it is correct. And my dear Katniss you are right, I remember the parade and your Tributes were stunning! Were they not folks? Let's hear it!" The crowd cheers and I pinch myself as I try to cheer with them. It's sickening. 

"It's not just mine," I find myself saying and I'm not sure where I am going with this. "So many tributes from the outliers are just not given a fair shake. I am here now to tell the sponsors to talk with me and work with me. This year I believe we can win. If not me, talk with Finnick or Johanna. You won't be disappointed. I remember the people of the Capitol weren't happy with some aspects of the games recently. Let your voices be heard. Support twelve. Or four. Or seven." 

The people clap and call out their support for us. I hate to ever feel optimistic about things, but it does seem that our purpose has been fulfilled. 

 

After an entire hour and a half, Caesar finally dismisses us and we waste no time in heading straight to the transport back to the towers. 

"Thank you," I say softly, cautiously. "I know that was not anything that should ever be asked of you, but I have no other choices. I'm sorry."

Finnick looks emotionally drained. As all interviews go with him, it's not even the Games they are interested in, it's what he was put through after the Games. He is constantly reminded of every salacious detail, and every deed Snow forced him into so the ones he loved wouldn't die. 

Johanna has a different look entirely. Despite having to recall nightmares of days long past, she has her arms around Finnick, protecting him as she always has, but she looks energized. 

"You should be sorry," she starts, "but you're right about a lot of things. Katniss.... we've been complacent too long. Ive done you a favor, so remember you owe me one. Oh... and Cinna is still mine."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><<><><><><><<>

 

 

I slowly march myself back up to the penthouse, and Ive made it just in time for the big reveals. 

 

"Katniss, dear you were marvelous!" Effie is running up to me with her usual pomp and priss. "Simply marvelous darling," she continues as she kisses my cheek. "We have already gotten sponsor calls in the past half an hour! All of the escorts have been messaging about it. It was truly a stroke of genius!"

I give her a genuine smile. Effie has cried an enormous amount of tears every year, for every Tribute we lose. I know there is a heart somewhere. She just makes it very hard to see sometimes. "Thanks Effie."

"Haymitch, for love's sake get up, don't you agree?" She stammers as she head back to the viewing area.

In true Haymitch form he doesn't even turn around to look at me. He simply raises his glass and grumbles, "You win the day!" 

I roll my eyes as I approach and sit in between him and Peeta. Speaking of, I look to him and he looks straight back at me and smiles brighter then should be allowed in a place like this. 

"How'd it go?" I ask. 

"It went well," he says. "We both feel we did well." 

I smile back at him, and for just the briefest of moments we both tense as though we are about to move our bodies into each other before we relax back down again, remembering where we are and who we are in front of. Peeta makes the stupidest face about it, and I just throw my head against the back of the couch trying to gather myself. It has been a long day, and it's not over yet. 

Ellyn comes back into the room and even she has a wide smile on her face. It's the most confident I have ever seen anyone after evaluations, and I can only hope that their confidence is well founded. 

The scores start to be read off and for some districts the news couldn't be worse. District 5 actually has someone who got a 3! Were they even trying! I'm starting to get nervous because the careers still have the best scores, and even though district 4 had an 8, and district 7 and 9 had 8's as well, why would anyone listen to what I had said about supporting people other than the careers? 

"District 12.." is read off and Ellyn's name and picture is on the screen. We all lean in. "With the score of 9."

"Oh my god..." Ellen barely whispers and the rest of us are stunned as well. A 9!!! That makes her the second highest ranked female. 

"Ellyn, oh my gosh congratulations!" Peeta says and wraps an arm around her.

"And lastly, Peeta Mellark", the announcer continues, "with the score of 10."

"Ooooohhhhhhh!" Effie is running around the room unsure of what to do with herself. "You did it! Peeta, Ellyn! You did it! What wonderful scores! We can certainly work with this!"

I just stare at Peeta. You can see the happiness that he received a score worthy of him, but in his eyes I see a deep internal conflict. The people on the screen are discussing Peeta's rumored preferred method of attack-  _I dont want them to change me_ \- that's what he had said to me, and now he is looking at this number on a screen that rates him in a game of death and murder.

I can see him trying to work through it in his head, trying to rationalize the irrational. It's impossible. He gets up and heads to the back hallway that leads to our quarters, and I give him a head start. When I finally make my way back there I see Peeta sitting on the ground, head back against the wall, and tears streaming down his face. 

 

The Games just became incredibly real for Peeta Mellark. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to always leave comments or criticism! I Get way to impatient while editing, and I know there are a lot of little mistakes here and there. Forgive me for them!
> 
> We good?


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